BY      '\ 

MARY   \ 
C6VDEN-J 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
LOS  ANGELES 


UNCLE,   PEEP,  AND   I. 


"I  found  myself  staring  up  at  a  strange  man's  face  that 
down  at  us."  —  PAGE  13. 


was   staring 


UNCLE,  PEEP,  AND  I. 


a 


BY 
MARY   COWDEN-CLARKE, 

AUTHOR  OF 

THE  "COMPLETE  CONCORDANCE  TO  SHAKESPEARE,"  THE  "SHAKESPEARE  KBY," 

"GIRLHOOD  OF  SHAKESPEARE'S  HEROINES,"  "KIT  BAM'S  ADVENTURES," 

"MANY  HAPPY  RETURNS  OF  THE  DAY,"  THE  "IRON  COUSIN," 

"A  RAMBLING  STORY,"  ETC,  ETC. 


Let  us  from  point  to  point  this  story  know, 
To  make  the  even  truth  in  pleasure  flow. 

SHAKESPEARE. 


BOSTON: 

ROBERTS    BROTHERS. 
1886. 


Copyright,  1886, 
BY  ROBERTS  BROTHERS. 


Bnfbrraftg  firm : 
JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON,  CAMBRIDGE. 


TO 

MY   MANY   DEAR   KIND    FRIENDS 
IN  AMERICA, 

AND 

TO    THEIR    CHILDREN, 

Qfyis  33aofc  is  JSrtucatetf, 

WITH    AFFECTIONATE    ESTEEM    AND    GRATITUDE. 


484047 

LIBRARY 


PHEFACE. 


TIRING  a  summer  ramble  in  Ger- 
many, while  making  some  stay  at 
delightful  Dresden,  I  met  a  sweet- 
faced  American  lady,  who  looked 
scarcely  older  than  her  two  fair  young  daugh- 
ters, so  fresh  was  her  complexion,  and  who 
said  to  me,  "I  wish  you  would  write  some- 
thing for  our  American  children  which  would 
make  them  know  and  love  you  as  we  all 
have  long  known  and  loved  you  through 
your  pen." 

On  my  return  to  my  Italian  home,  I  thought 
over  her  obliging  words;  and  one  morning 
I  awoke  with  the  sketch  presented  to  my 
mind  of"  Uncle,  Peep,  and  I,"  which  I  thought 
afforded  scope  for  fulfilment  of  her  wish. 
The  style  of  "Dutch  painting,"  which  I 


8  PREFACE. 

adopted  for  this  child's  novel,  is  in  accord- 
ance with  what  I  remember  wishing  for  in 
my  childhood  days,  when  I  liked  to  know 
every  detail  of  a  narrative,  and  asked,  "  Well, 
what  did  he  say  ?  "  "  Then,  what  did  she 
say?"  The  incidents  are  chosen  that  may 
best  develop  the  questions  of  graciousness 
or  ungraciousness  in  manner,  kindliness  or 
unaffectionateness  in  gift  and  acceptance,  the 
enjoyment  that  lies  in  simple  and  inexpensive 
pleasures,  —  questions  that  are  often  uncon- 
sciously yet  keenly  felt  by  sensitive  and 
naturally  tasteful  children  ;  while  the  English 
figures,  English  landscape,  English  park  scen- 
ery, in  my  picture  have  been  delineated  as 
likely  to  attract  and  interest  my  young 
American  readers,  and  incline  them  to  take 
into  their  favor 

Their  friend  and  well-wisher, 

MARY  COWDEN-CLARKE. 

VILLA  NOVELLO,  GENOA. 
February,  1886. 


UNCLE,  PEEP,  AND  I, 


CHAPTER  I. 

USH  !     Don't  cry  so,  Peep." 
"  You  're  crying  yourself,  Bab." 
"  I  'm  trying  not  to  cry,  Peep." 
"  So  am  I,  Bab  ;  but  I  can't  help 
crying.     When  I  saw  those  men  come   and 
take   father  away,  I   cried ;   and   I  've  been 
crying   ever   since.      Where   did    they   take 
him  to,  Bab  ?  " 

"  To  heaven,  Peep." 
"  Where 's  that,  Bab  ?     Is  it  far  ?  " 
"  Oh,  ever  so  far,  Peep ;  it  must  be." 
"But  where  is  it, .Bab?" 
"  I  don't  know,  Peep." 
Peep  stopped  a  minute  to  think ;  then  he 
said,  — 

"  Why  do  you  think  it 's  far  off,  Bab  ?  " 


10  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

"  Because  when  mother  died,  Peep,  father 
told  me  she  was  gone  to  heaven ;  and  she 
never  came  back,  so  I  thought  it  must  be 
a  long  way  off.  And  now  he  's  gone,  too,  — 
to  look  after  her,  I  suppose ;  and  very  likely 
he  will  never  come  back  either." 

Peep  and  I  began  to  cry  afresh  then,  and 
went  on  crying.  But  presently  he  looked 
at  me  again,  and  said, — 

"  Do  people  always  go  to  heaven  in  a  long 
box,  Bab  ? " 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Peep  ?  " 

"I  mean  I  saw  those  men  put  father  in 
a  great  long  box  when  they  took  him  away  ; 
and  that  was  what  made  me  cry  most  of  all, 
Bab  ;  it  looked  so  odd  and  so  —  " 

Peep  broke  off,  partly  as  if  he  did  n't  know 
what  word  to  use,  partly  as  if  crying  stopped 
his  speaking. 

"  Don't  sob  so,  Peep ;  try  and  think  of 
father  before  he  grew  ill,  and  when  he  used 
to  talk  and  laugh  and  play  with  us,  to  keep 
us  from  feeling  dull  and  too  hungry,  when 
he  had  little  to  bring  home  for  us  to  eat." 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  11 

"  I  'in  hungry  now,  Bab." 

"  Are  you,  Peep  ?  I  'm  afraid  there  's  not 
much  in  the  cupboard.  But  I  '11  look." 

I  found  a  piece  of  bread,  which  I  had  put 
away  when  I  could  n't  eat  at  breakfast-time, 
while  the  men  came  to  carry  father  away. 
So  I  gave  it  to  Peep,  who  began  to  munch 
it  slowly  ;  for  it  was  very  hard,  and  he  could 
hardly  get  his  teeth  into  it  He  was  only 
five  years  old,  poor  little  fellow,  and  I  was  n't 
much  older,  though  I  seemed  so  ;  for  father 
used  to  tell  me  things  about  mother,  and  how 
she  would  have  taught  me  to  be  like  a  little 
mother  to  Peep  if  she  had  n't  had  to  go  away 
to  heaven  so  soon ;  and  I  tried  to  be  like 
one  as  well  as  I  could  by  what  he  told  me  of 
her.  I  was  thinking  about  all  this  when 
Peep  said,  — 

"  Ain't  you  hungry,  too,  Bab  ?  " 

"  Not  very,  Peep  ;  not  so  hungry  as  you  are." 

"  How  do  you  know,  Bab  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  'm  sure  of  it,  Peep  ;  I  see  you  're 
hungry,  — very  hungry,  and  I  'm  only  rather 
hungry." 


12  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

"  I  'm  very  cold,  too,  Bab,  and  there 's  no 
fire  in  the  grate." 

"  No,  Peep,  and  I  can't  light  one,  for  there 's 
no  wood  left,  and  very  little  coal." 

"  What  shall  we  do,  Bab  ?  " 

"  Let 's  sit  down  together  on  the  rug,  Peep, 
and  wrap  ourselves  up  in  it ;  it  '11  keep  us 
warm." 

Peep's  teeth  were  chattering,  and  he  trem- 
bled a  good  deal  when  we  first  sat  down 
on  the  rug ;  but  after  we  had  hunched 
ourselves  close  together  and  wrapped  it 
round  us  both,  we  felt  rather  better,  and 
he  said,  — 

"'What  a  cross  old  thing  that  Mrs.  Wall 
is,  is  n't  she,  Bab  ?  " 

"  Yes,  she 's  very  cross,  Peep ;  but  she 
brought  us  some  milk  for  breakfast  this  morn- 
ing, and  I  don't  think  she  could  have  been 
paid  for  it;  for  father  said  last  night  he 
had  n't  a  shilling  left,  and  how  we  should 
get  any  breakfast  he  did  n't  know ;  so  it 
must  have  been  some  milk  she  gave  us  for 
kindness,  though  she  is  cross,  Peep." 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND  I.  13 

Peep  said  nothing  for  some  time,  and  at 
last  I  felt  him  lean  heavily  against  me  ;  so 
heavily  and  so  lumpily  that  I  knew  he  must 
be  asleep,  and  I  kept  myself  from  moving  for 
fear  of  waking  him.  I  suppose  I  must  have 
fallen  asleep  too,  for  I  don't  remember  any- 
thing else  till  I  found  myself  staring  up  from 
the  folds  of  the  rug  at  a  strange  man's  face, 
that  was  staring  down  at  us  as  we  lay  there 
wrapped  up  together. 

"  What  are  you  at  ?  "  said  the  strange  man, 
in  a  gruffish  voice. 

"  We  're  trying  to  keep  ourselves  warm," 
I  said. 

"  What 's  your  names  ?  " 

"  Peep  and  Bab,"  I  answered. 

"  All  right ;  you  're  the  little  'uns  I  came 
to  look  after.  Your  mother  told  me  of  you 
in  the  last  letter  she  wrote  to  me  out  there, 
and  asked  me,  when  I  returned,  to  come  and 
see  after  you.  I'm  returned,  —  from  sea, — 
and  am  come.  She 's  gone,  I  suppose.  I 
knew,  from  her  letter,  she  could  n't  last  long, 
poor  soul.  Poor  girl !  Poor  Dolly  1  " 


14  UNCLE,  PEEP,  AND  I. 

The  man  put  up  his  arm  and  brushed  his 
coat-sleeve  over  his  eyes. 

"  Father  used  to  call  her  Dolly,  too ;  but 
her  real  name  was  Dorothy,"  I  ventured  to 
whisper. 

"  Ay,  ay ;  all  right.  You  're  my  poor 
sister's  little  'uns,  sure  enough.  Where 's 
your  father  ?  " 

"  Gone,  too.  They  carried  him  away  to 
heaven  this  very  morning.  If  mother  was 
your  sister,  you  must  be  Uncle  that  she  used 
to  tell  us  of,"  I  added,  staring  still  harder 
up  in  his  face. 

"  Yes,  I  'm  Uncle ;  your  uncle ;  Uncle  John 
Bruff.  Come  along  with  me,  young  'uns ; 
you  can't  stay  here,  you  know,  all  by  your- 
selves. Come,  come  along  with  me." 

So  saying,  Uncle  gave  me  a  strong  tug, 
and  gave  Peep  another,  which  pulled  us  up 
on  to  our  feet.  Peep  had  been  rubbing  his 
eyes,  and  waking,  and  staring  up,  too,  at  the 
strange  man  with  the  gruffish  voice.  Just 
then  Mrs.  Wall  came  into  the  room,  and 
Uncle  went  to  her  and  spoke  some  words 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND  I.  15 

with  her,  and  gave  her  some  money;  and 
then  he  turned  to  us  again,  took  one  of  us 
in  each  hand,  and  walked  quickly  downstairs 
to  the  street-door,  where  there  was  a  hackney- 
coach  waiting,  into  which  he  lifted  Peep  and 
me.  As  we  drove  along,  Uncle  didn't  look 
much  at  us,  but  kept  staring  out  of  the  coach 
window,  and  seemed  to  be  thinking  hard  and 
not  noticing  what  he  saw  in  the  streets.  We 
went  through  a  good  many,  and  at  last  came 
to  roads  and  lanes  with  trees  and  hedges 
on  each  side.  Peep  crept  closer  still  to  me, 
—  he  had  kept  close  to  me  all  the  time,  — 
and,  as  he  peered  out  on  our  side  of  the 
coach,  he  whispered  to  me,  — 

"  Oh,  Bab,  we  're  in  the  country !  " 

"Yes,  Peep,  in  the  real  country.  How 
nice  and  green  it  is  ! " 

"  Do  you  think  he  's  going  to  steal  us  ?  " 
said  Peep,  with  a  frightened  glance  at 
Uncle. 

"  No,  Peep,  I  don't  think  so ;  we  ain't 
worth  stealing,  and  though  his  voice  is  gruff, 
he  don't  seem  really  cross.  He  is  n't  going 


16  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

to  do  anything  bad  to  us,  I  think.  He  called 
mother  i  poor  girl,'  you  know." 

"Did  he,  Bab?" 

"  Yes,  and  '  poor  Dolly.'  I  think  he  's 
going  to  be  good  to  us,  for  her  sake." 

"  If  he  's  going  to  be  good,  why  does  he 
talk  like  being  angry,  Bab  ?  " 

"I  don't  know,  Peep.  Some  people  do 
talk  rough  though  they  mean  to  be  kind. 
Mrs.  Wall  did." 

"  So  she  did,"  said  Peep,  nodding  his 
head  and  falling  silent  again.  Presently  he 
whispered,  — 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  hungry,  Bab." 

But  just  as  he  said  this  he  nearly  tumbled 
off  his  seat ;  for  the  coach  stopped  with  a 
sudden  jerk,  and  we  found  ourselves  before 
the  garden-gate  of  a  house  among  trees ; 
though  by  this  time  the  evening  was  coming 
on,  and  I  could  n't  see  much  of  the  place  we 
were  being  taken  to. 

Uncle  lifted  us  out  as  he  had  lifted  us  in, 
and  then  took  us,  one  in  each  hand,  along 
a  little  path  that  led  to  the  door  of  the  house, 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  17 

calling  out  as  he  did  so,  in  a  loud,  roaring 
voice,  — 

«  Ahoy !  Sal !    Where  are  you  ?   Sal !  Sal !  " 

A  light  came  to  the  door ;  it  opened,  and 
a  servant-girl  appeared. 

"  Take  these  young  'uns  into  the  parlor, 
Sal,  while  I  go  and  give  coachee  his  fare." 

Sal  stared  at  us,  repeating,  "  Young  'uns !  " 
then  took  us  from  Uncle's  hands,  and  turned 
with  us  into  a  room  where  I  was  almost 
blinded  by  the  bright  light  of  a  blazing  fire 
and  of  two  candles  on  the  table,  on  which 
there  was  a  white  table-cloth,  and  plates,  and 
knives  and  forks  shining  and  glittering  in 
the  candlelight. 

Sal  muttered  something  grumpily  to  her- 
self that  I  could  n't  make  out ;  but  when 
Uncle  came  in,  she  turned  to  him,  and  said 
in  a  snappish  tone, — 

"  You  did  n't  say  nothing  about  bringing 
child'n  home  with  you.  But  supper  for  one  's 
supper  for  two,  or  for  three,  for  that  matter  ; 
so  I  s'pose  there  's  enough,  Cap'n." 

"  Yes,  yes,  of  course  there 's  enough ;   so 


18  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

bring  in  supper,  sharp,  Sal,  —  sharp,  d'  ye 
hear ;  for  1 11  bet  these  young  'uns  are 
sharp-set." 

"That  I'll  be  bound!"  said  Sal,  as  she 
bounced  out,  and  soon  bounced  in  again, 
bringing  hot  meat,  and  potatoes,  and  bread, 
with  which  Uncle  heaped  our  plates  and  his 
own.  Then  Sal  brought  in  a  tray  with 
glasses,  and  a  jug  of  hot  water,  and  a  bottle 
with  a  bright  ticket  hung  round  its  neck, 
from  which  Uncle  poured  some  strong-smelling 
stuff  into  three  glasses,  filling  them  up  with 
hot  water. 

"  Have  some  grog,  Bab  and  Peep ;  it  '11 
do  you  good,  and  put  some  warmth  into  you 
after  your  long,  cold  drive." 

Peep  and  I  took  what  Uncle  called  "  grog ; " 
but  it  was  so  boiling  hot  and  so  strong  that 
it  nearly  took  away  our  breath  as  we  tried 
to  sip  some.  Uncle  watched  us,  and  laughed 
a  loud  laugh  at  the  way  in  which  we  drew 
our  lips  suddenly  back;  but  when  he  put 
another  lump  of  sugar  into  our  glasses  and 
the  "  grog  "  was  a  little  cooler,  Peep  gulped 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  19 

it  down,  and  soon  after  fell  fast  asleep  and 
nearly  toppled  off  his  chair. 

"  Sal,  take  the  young  shaver  to  bed,"  said 
Uncle,  still  laughing. 

"  Let  me  go  with  him,"  I  said.  "  I  always 
put  Peep  to  bed,  and  he  won't  be  comfortable 
if  I  don't." 

"  Ay,  ay,  all  right ;  off  with  you  too,  Bab ; 
a  couple  of  rum  young  'uns  you  are,  and  no 
mistake.  But  I  must  make  the  best  of  you 
I  can,  I  s'pose,  for  poor  Dolly's  sake,  poor 
girl!" 

Sal  lifted  Peep  up  in  her  strong,  red  arms, 
and  I  followed  her  upstairs.  She  led  the  way 
into  a  small  room,  with  a  white-curtained 
window  and  a  white-curtained  bed,  muttering 
sulkily,  — 

"  Men  are  all  alike  !  No  thought  for  any- 
thing !  It 's  a  mercy  Master  Tom 's  away 
at  school,  or  there  'd  ha'  been  no  bed  for 
these  child 'n.  But  they  can  lie  in  his  for 
to-night,  and  to-morrow  I  '11  make  'em  up 
one  in  t'  other  room." 

As   soon  as  Sal   had   put   Peep   down   on 


20  UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND   I. 

an  arm-chair  there  was  by  the  bedside,  she 
bounced  out,  and  returned  with  a  couple  of 
nightgowns,  saying,  — 

"  There  !  you  can  have  Master  Tom's  night- 
clothes  till  he  comes  back,  and  by  then  I 
s'pose  the  Cap'n  '11  have  had  some  made  for 
you  both  your  own  selves." 

I  thanked  her,  and  soon  had  Peep  undressed 
and  snugly  tucked  up  in  bed,  while  Sal  stood 
by  and  looked  at  me.  Suddenly  she  burst 
out  with, — 

"  Well,  I  never !  That  bit  of  a  gal  might 
be  an  old  'oman,  for  the  gumptionable  way 
she  fettles  up  her  little  brother !  " 

I  was  n't  long  in  getting  undressed  myself ; 
and  then,  after  giving  Peep  a  hearty  kiss  as 
his  white,  tired-out  face  lay  on  the  pillow, 
comfortably  resting  there,  I  laid  myself  down 
beside  him  and  waited  till  Sal  went  out  of 
the  room.  Then  I  softly  got  up  and  knelt 
down  near  the  bed,  as  mother  taught  me,  and 
asked  God  to  pity  and  help  us;  and  then  I 
slipped  into  bed  again,  and  was  soon  fast 
asleep. 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND  I.  21 


CHAPTER  II. 

EXT  morning  I  awoke  long  before 
Peep,  and  crept  out  o'  bed  quietly 
that  I  might  n't  wake  him.  I  went 
to  the  window  and  lifted  up  the 
white  curtain  that  hung  before  it  and  looked 
out.  I  nearly  cried  out  when  I  saw  what  was 
there,  it  was  all  so  pretty  and  so  pleasant. 
There  were  the  trees  and  grass-plot  and  path- 
way I  had  half  made  out  overnight,  and  there 
was  a  bright  blue  sky  above  them,  in  which 
some  white  pigeons  were  flying  round  and 
round,  and  there  was  a  little  bird  singing  on 
a  bush  quite  close  to  the  house.  I  could  see 
him  quite  plainly,  perching  there,  and  could 
hear  his  loud  chirping  voice  as  clearly  as 
possible.  I  stood  there  a  good  while,  listen- 
ing and  looking,  and  found  myself  thanking 
God  for  sending  me  to  a  place  where  I  could 


22  UNCLE,   PEEP,  AND  I. 

see  and  hear  all  this,  before  I  remembered 
to  kneel  down  and  thank  him  in  the  words 
mother  taught  me.  Then  I  thought  I  would 
get  ready  dressed  and  washed  before  Peep 
awoke  and  wanted  me  to  dress  and  wash 
him. 

"  Where  are  we,  Bab  ? "  were  his  first 
words  as  he  started  up,  leaning  on  his  elbow 
and  staring  round  the  room. 

"  We  're  where  Uncle  brought  us,  Peep, 
yesterday ;  don't  you  recollect  ?  The  coach, 
the  coming  into  the  country,  the  stopping  at 
a  house  with  a  garden,  the  supper,  the  hot 
'  grog,'  as  Uncle  called  it,  —  don't  you  re- 
member it  all?" 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  do,  Bab  ;  but  what  place 
do  you  fancy  it  is  ?  " 

"I  s'pose  it's  his  home,  Peep." 

"  Do  you  think  he  means  us  to  live  in  it,  — 
to  live  with  him,  Bab  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  know ;  I  suppose  he  does, 
Peep.  How  should  you  like  to  live  here  with 
him  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mind ;  I  should  n't  care  to  stay 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  23 

here  with  him  by  myself,  Bab ;  but  if  he 's  going 
to  have  you  and  me  both  to  stay  with  him, 
I  wouldn't  mind.  That  was  a  good  supper 
last  night,  —  I  was  so  hungry,  Bab,  —  though 
I  don  t  like  the  (  grog  ; '  it  was  so  burning,  — 
not  only  hot,  you  know,  but  so  stinging, 
somehow ;  it  hurt  my  throat  when  I  tried  to 
swallow  it  for  fear  he  should  be  angry  if 
I  did  n't,  when  he  had  told  me  to  drink 
it  up." 

"  I  hope  he  won't  bid  us  to  drink  any  more 
6  grog,'  Peep,  and  then  all  the  rest  I  like. 
Not  only  the  supper  was  good,  —  /  was  hun- 
gry, too,  oh,  so  hungry,  Peep  !  —  but  it  was 
good  to  have  a  bed  to  sleep  upon,  and  night- 
clothes  to  put  on,  and,  oh,  Peep  !  such  a  nice 
garden  to  look  out  at !  Do  come  and  see 
what  there  is  at  this  window,  —  pigeons, 
trees,  grass,  —  oh,  so  green,  so  very,  very 
pretty !  " 

Peep  scrambled  out  of  bed  in  a  hurry ;  and 
when  he  and  I  had  looked  out  till  he  began 
to  shiver  a  little,  and  I  recollected  it  was  too 
cold  for  him  to  be  staying  there  without  his 


24  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

clothes,  I  began  to  wash  and  dress  him 
quickly ;  so  that  when  Sal  came  bouncing 
in,  she  found  us  both  ready. 

"Well,  I  never!"  she  exclaimed;  "that 
gal  beats  all  I  ever  see  in  the  way  of  old 
'ornanish  gumption !  She  has  more  nouse 
than  many  a  married  'oman  I  know,  in  regard 
to  being  a  mother  to  her  little  brother  there. 
Come,  both  on  you ;  as  you  're  ready  dressed 
a'ready,  you  can  come  down  and  be  in  the 
parlor  for  breakfast  before  the  Cap'n  himself 
is  down." 

However,  this  was  not  the  case ;  for  we 
found  Uncle  standing  with  his  back  to  the 
fire,  his  coat-tails  under  his  arms  and  a  news- 
paper in  his  hand,  as  we  went  into  the  room 
where  breakfast  was  spread  on  the  table  and 
looked  very  nice,  it  was  so  plentiful  and  good. 
There  was  a  pile  of  thick  bread  and  butter 
on  a  plate,  and  on  another  were  some  slices 
of  fried  ham  and  eggs,  while  hooked  on  to 
the  fender  was  still  another  plate,  with  a  tall 
heap  of  buttered  toast  upon  it,  to  keep  hot  be- 
fore the  fire.  A  coffee-pot,  a  milk-jug,  and  a 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  25 

sugar-basin  stood  on  the  table,  with  an  uncut 
crusty  loaf  and  a  large  pat  of  butter. 

I  saw  Peep  cast  a  longing  look  at  all 
these  good  things ;  but  I  nudged  him,  and 
whispered,  — 

"  Come  and  say  good  morning  to  Uncle, 
Peep." 

We  took  hold  of  hands  and  walked  straight 
up  to  the  rug  where  Uncle  stood  behind  the 
big  newspaper,  which  nearly  hid  him  from  us, 
and  said, — 

"  Good  morning,  Uncle." 

He  nodded,  without  taking  his  eyes  off  the 
newspaper ;  then,  putting  one  of  his  fingers 
on  the  line  he  had  been  reading,  he  lowered 
the  large  sheet  and  looked  over  its  top  at 
us  two. 

"  'Morning,  Bab  and  Peep.  Stop  a  bit ; 
wait  till  I  've  finished  this  bit  about  the  i  Ship- 
ping Intelligence  ; '  then  sharp  's  the  word 
for  breakfast." 

In  a  few  minutes  Uncle  laid  down  the  big 
paper,  and  took  his  seat  at  the  table,  nodding 
to  us  to  take  ours  also.  He  helped  himself 


26  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

and  us  to  huge  portions  of  the  good  things 
there,  and  we  all  three  ate  on  in  silence  for 
some  time,  till  suddenly  Peep  leaned  towards 
me  and  whispered,  — 

"  Bab !  Look  at  that  cow  on  the  butter ! 
Ain't  it  well  done  ?  But  what  do  they  put 
a  cow  on  the  butter  for  ?  " 

I  looked  at  the  pat  of  butter  and  saw  there 
was  a  cow,  as  Peep  said,  upon  it ;  but  I  did  n't 
know  why  it  was  put  there,  so  I  only  said,  — 

"  Hush,  Peep ;  don't  ask  questions  now ; 
I  '11  tell  you  about  it  afterwards." 

"  What  are  you  two  young  'uns  whispering 
about,  —  hatching  mischief,  or  what  ?  "  said 
Uncle,  gruffly. 

"  Ain't  hatching  anything,  Uncle,"  I  plucked 
up  courage  to  say. 

"  Ain't  you,  though  ?  What  are  you  whis- 
pering ?  Out  with  it." 

"  We  want  to  know  what  a  cow  's  put  on 
the  butter  for,  Uncle." 

Uncle  laughed  his  loud,  roaring  laugh ;  then 
he  said, — 

"A  cow  gives  milk;   milk  makes  cream; 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  27 

cream  makes  butter.  That 's  it ;  don't  you 
see?" 

Peep  nodded.     "  I  see,"  he  said. 

"Well,  I'm  off  to  town.  Must  go  to 
Lloyd's,"  said  Uncle,  starting  up  from  table 
as  he  finished  breakfast.  "  Amuse  yourselves, 
young  'uns  ;  run  about  in  the  garden  as  much 
as  you  like.  By-by. 

He  went  quickly  out,  walked  briskly  along 
the  garden-path,  and  went  out  of  the  gate, 
giving  it  a  sharp  bang  behind  him. 

Peep  and  I  slipped  off  our  chairs  and  ran 
into  the  garden,  where  we  played  about  till 
we  were  tired,  and  went  to  sit  upon  a  garden- 
seat  under  a  tree  to  enjoy  the  shade.  Pres- 
ently we  saw  a  lad  in  a  smock-frock,  with 
a  wheelbarrow  full  of  some  dark  stuff,  come 
into  the  garden  by  a  side-gate  towards  the 
back  of  the  house.  He  saw  us,  and  let  go 
the  handle  on  one  side  of  the  barrow,  that 
he  might  lift  his  hand  to  his  hair  and  twitch 
one  lock  as  he  looked  at  us ;  then  he  trundled 
his  barrow  towards  a  flower-bed  near,  and 
began  strewing  the  dark  stuff  among  the 


28  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

flowers.  We  both  watched  him,  till  at  last 
Peep  said,  — 

"  Why  does  that  boy  put  dirt  there,  Bab  ? 
It  looks  so  nasty,  and  smells  nastier.  Why 
does  he  do  it?" 

"  I  don't  know,  Peep." 

"  It  '11  dirty  the  roses.  I  Ve  a  good  mind 
to  tell  him  not  to  do  it,  Bab." 

"  P'rhaps  he  's  been  told  to  do  it,  Peep ; 
he  'd  hardly  do  it  if  Uncle  or  Sal  had  n't  told 
him  he  might." 

"  Oh,  they  could  n't  have  told  him  to  strew 
that  mess  in  this  nice  garden,  Bab ;  I  '11  ask 
him  if  they  did.  He  don't  look  like  a  bad 
boy  in  his  face,  though  he  's  scattering  dirt ; 
so  I'm  not  afraid  of  him." 

Peep  slid  off  the  garden-seat  and  went 
straight  up  to  the  lad  in  the  smock-frock, 
who  left  off  what  he  was  about  to  twitch  the 
lock  of  hair  on  his  forehead  again. 

"  What  are  you  doing  that  for  ?  You  '11 
spoil  the  roses,  putting  that  dirt  among  'em. 
Were  you  told  to  do  it  ?" 

"  Oh,  mook  don't  spoil  roses;  it  makes  'em 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  29 

grow  beautiful,  it  do.  Cap'n  Brooff  has  me 
at  odd  times  to  do  a  bit  o'  gardening  here, 
and  to-day  I  brought  a  barrowful  o'  mook 
for  the  rose-bed." 

"  Mook  ?  "  said  Peep. 

"  Yes,  little  master,  mook,  —  doong,  you 
know,  —  horse-doong ;  Cap'n  and  the  gentle- 
folks sometimes  calls  it  manoor." 

This  boy  had  a  nubbly,  ugly  face,  but  a 
very  nice-looking  face,  too ;  at  least,  I  liked 
it,  and  did  n't  wonder  Peep  had  n't  felt  afraid 
of  speaking  to  him.  I  did  n't  feel  afraid  of 
him  either,  so  I  said,  — 

" '  Cap'n  ? '  You  mean  Captain  Bruff  ; 
Uncle,  our  Uncle." 

"  Yes,  little  miss,  Cap'n  Brooff.  He 's 
come  to  live  here  lately,  and  gives  me  a  job 
now  and  then,  and  lets  me  do  a  hand's  turn 
in  the  garden  between-times." 

"  Between-times  ?  "  said  Peep. 

"  Yes,  little  master ;  at  odd  hours,  off  and 
on,  when  I  ain't  got  other  work.  I  mostly 
get  work  at  farmer  Giles's ;  but  when 
farmer  Giles  don't  want  extra  hands,  Cap'n 


30  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND  I. 

takes  me  on  here.  I'm  mortal  fond  o' 
gardening." 

"  Are  you  ?  "  asked  Peep. 

"  Yes,  and  I  'm  fond  o'  gardening  here ;  for 
Cap'n  Brooff's  a  nice  gen'l'man  to  work  for, 
though  he  's  a  bit  rough  o'  speech,  and  sounds 
harder  than  he  is." 

"That's  true,"  I  said. 

"  How  do  you  know,  Bab  ?  We  've  only 
seen  him  since  yesterday,"  said  Peep. 

"  Well,  I  know  it,  Peep,  because  though  he 
speaks  gruff  and  short  he  lifted  us  into  the 
coach  and  out  of  the  coach  gently,  and  did  n't 
hurt  me  a  bit  when  he  snatched  me  up  to  do 
it ;  and  then  he  brought  us  to  where  we  got 
a  good  supper  and  a  good  breakfast  when 
we  'd  nothing  to  eat  where  we  were  before, 
and  to  a  house  with  this  nice  garden  instead 
of  a  house  with  houses  opposite  and  nothing 
but  streets  all  round  to  look  at." 

Peep  did  n't  answer  this,  but  kept  steadily 
watching  the  lad  strewing  the  contents  of  his 
barrow  among  the  flowers.  At  last  Peep 
leaned  towards  me,  still  keeping  his  eye 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  31 

fixed  on  the  lad,  and  whispered  in  my 
ear,  — 

"  I  wonder  what  his  name  is,  Bab." 

"  Ask  him,  Peep ;  you  ain't  afraid  of  him, 
you  know." 

"  No,  I  ain't  afraid  of  him.  His  face  is  n't 
cross,  and  his  voice  is  n't  fierce,  is  it,  Bab  ?  " 

"No,  Peep,  I  like  his  face  and  his  voice 
too." 

"  So  do  I.  I  say,  boy,  what 's  your 
name  ?  "  said  Peep,  raising  his  own  voice. 

The  lad  looked  up,  pulled  his  lock  of  hair, 
and  said,  — 

"  Ned  Carter." 

"  Should  you  mind  giving  me  a  ride  in  that 
barrow,  Ned  Carter,  when  you  Ve  emptied 
it  all  out?"  said  Peep. 

"  Not  I,  little  master,"  said  Ned,  with  his 
cheery,  brisk  voice.  "It'll  soon  be  empty 
now,  and  I  '11  just  give  it  a  rub  down  clean 
after  the  mook  's  out,  so  it  sha'n't  do  no  hurt 
to  your  clothes." 

"P'rhaps  it'll  make  'em  smell,"  I  whis- 
pered to  Peep. 


32  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND  I. 

But  he  was  too  eager  for  his  ride  in  the 
barrow  to  recollect  what  he  himself  had  said 
about  the  nasty  stuif  and  its  nastier  smell ; 
so  he  clambered  in,  and  Ned  Carter  wheeled 
him  twice  round  the  garden ;  then  he  said,  — 

"  Now,  little  master,  you  '11  have  to  get 
out ;  because  Cap'n  Brooff  pays  me  to  work, 
not  play." 

"Do  you  think  it  play  to  wheel  me 
about  ?  "  asked  Peep,  as  he  let  Ned  lift  him 
down. 

"  Why,  to  be  sure  it  is,  little  master." 

"Well,  then,  Ned,  I  should  like  to  have 
some  play  with  you  again,  next  time  you 
come  to  work  here." 

"  You  '11  have  to  ask  Uncle  to  let  him  play 
a  little  with  you,  Peep,  as  well  as  work  in 
the  garden,"  I  said. 

"  I  don't  think  I  shall  like  to  ask  Uncle 
that,  or  ask  him  anything,  Bab;  I'm  afraid 
of  him,  though  I  ain't  of  Ned  Carter." 

"  But  I  ain't  afraid,  —  that  is,  much  afraid, 
of  Uncle,  Peep,  and  if  you  like,  I'll  ask  him  to 
let  you  have  some  play  with  Ned  some  day." 


UNCLE,   PEEP,    AND  I.  33 

"  Oh,  that  would  be  nice,  Bab  !  Do,  do  ! 
Mind  you  don't  forget,  for  I  should  like  to 
play  with  Ned  ;  he  looks  as  if  he  'd  be  a  good 
playfellow,  and  not  mind  having  a  game  with 
me  though  I  am  so  much  littler  than  he  is." 

We  stayed  in  the  garden  watching  Ned  as 
he  went  about  working  among  the  flowers, 
till  at  last  he  gave  a  tug  to  his  front  hair, 
said,  "  Good-day  t'  ye,  little  miss  and  little 
master,"  and  went  away  pulling  his  empty 
barrow  behind  him. 

We  went  into  the  house,  where  Sal  gave 
Peep  and  me  a  hunk  of  bread  and  cheese 
apiece,  saying,  — 

"  I  s'pose  you  child'n  '11  not  be  able  to  last 
out  till  Cap'n  comes  home  to  dinner ;  he 
don't  come  home  till  latish,  ever,  and  some- 
times he  don't  come  back  till  supper- time. 
But  he  said  he  'd  be  home  to  dinner  to-day 
nigh  upon  four." 

«  What 's  <  Lloyd's/  Sal  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  What  in  the  name  o'  patience  does  the 
child  mean?"  was  Sal's  reply. 

"  Uncle  said  he  was  going  to  '  Lloyd's/ 
3 


34  UNCLE,  PEEP,  AND  I. 

when  he  went  out  this  morning,"  I  replied. 
"  He  said  he  was  off  to  town,  and  must  go  to 
<  Lloyd's.'  So,  what's  '  Lloyd's'?  I  mean, 
where 's  '  Lloyd's '  ?  Is  it  in  town,  in  London?  " 

"  How  should  I  know  what  it  is  or  where 
it  is?"  said  Sal,  snappishly.  "But,"  she 
added,  sniffing  up  her  nose  sharply,  "  what 
on  earth  have  you  two  plagues  o'  child'n 
been  up  to?  Where  have  you  been?" 

"  In  the  garden,"  I  answered. 

"  The  whole  time  ?  Not  gone  outside  ? 
Let  me  catch  you  going  out  o'  the  gate, 
that 's  all,  without  leave !  Did  you  stay  in 
the  garden  all  the  while  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  we  both  said  at  once. 

Suddenly  Sal  caught  hold  of  Peep  by  the 
shoulder,  and  said,  — 

"It's  you;  you've  been  a-rolling  on  the 
ground  where  Ned  's  been  manoorin  the  rose- 
bed,  and  a  fine  job  I  shall  have  to  make  you 
sweet  and  clean  before  Cap'n  comes  home. 
It 's  fit  to  p'ison  him  while  he  dines,  it  is  !  " 

"  Never  mind,  Sal,  /  'II  clean  up  Peep," 
I  said.  "  Here,  Peep,  come  upstairs  with 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  35 

me,  and  I  '11  manage  to  make  you  all  right 
by  the  time  Uncle  comes  back  to  dinner." 

"  Well,  that  bit  of  a  gal 's  as  good  as  a  play, 
with  her  old-fashioned  motherly  ways,"  I 
heard  her  mutter,  as  she  bounced  off  to  the 
kitchen  ;  and  I  went  up  to  the  room  where 
we  had  slept  last  night,  and  took  off  Peep's 
jacket  and  trousers,  and  wiped  them  with 
a  damp  towel,  and  hung  them  out  of  window 
till  they  lost  the  bad  smell  and  were  quite 
dry  for  him  to  put  on  again. 

By  the  time  this  was  done,  I  heard  Uncle 's 
loud,  roaring  voice  below,  and  Peep  and  I 
went  downstairs  to  be  ready  for  dinner.  He 
nodded  at  us  when  we  came  into  the  parlor, 
and  we  took  our  seats  at  the  table,  on  which 
the  cloth  was  fdready  laid,  and  Sal  soon 
served  the  meat.  When  she  took  it  away 
and  put  some  cheese  and  radishes  on  the 
table,  Uncle  suddenly  said,  — 

"  Why  did  n't  you  give  us  a  pudd'n',  Sal  ? 
These  young  'uns  would  have  liked  something 
sweet,  I'll  bet."- 

"  You  never  give  orders  for  none,  Cap'n." 


36  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

"  No,  but  you  might  ha'  guessed,  Sal." 

"  How  should  I  ha'  guessed  ?  How  should 
I  ha'  known  you  'd  ha'  chose  to  go  to  the 
expense  of  a  pudd'n'  besides  meat  for  these 
child' n,  when  you  don't  never  have  one  done 
for  yourself,  Cap'n  ?  " 

"  Oh,  me  ?  I  'm  quite  another  thing ;  I 
ain't  got  a  sweet  tooth  in  my  head,  but 
I  s'pose  these  young  'uns  have ;  young  'uns 
always  have." 

I  thought  it  so  good-natured  of  Uncle  to 
say  this,  that  I  felt  able  now  to  get  out  what 
I  had  to  ask  him,  and  said, — 

"  Uncle,  please  would  you  mind  letting 
Ned  Carter  play  a  little  with  Peep  next  time 
he  comes  to  garden  here  ?  It  would  n't  take 
him  very  long  from  his  work." 

Uncle  laid  down  his  knife,  with  a  bit  of 
cheese  stuck  on  the  tip  of  it,  that  he  was 
just  going  to  put  into  his  mouth,  and  stared 
hard  at  me.  Then  he  said, — 

"  Peep 's  rum,  but  you  're  rummer,  Bab,  — 
a  sight  rummer ;  not  a  doubt  about  it." 

Then  he  closed   his  lips  round  the  bit  of 


UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND   I.  37 

cheese,  snapped  off  a  morsel  of  radish,  and 
pinched  off  a  piece  of  crust  of  bread,  which 
he  crunched  up  all  together,  still  keeping  his 
eyes  fixed  on  me.. 

I  saw  he  was  n't  angry,  though  he  stared 
with  such  a  grave  look ;  so  I  said,  — 

'*  Please,  Uncle,  would  you  ?  " 

He  nodded. 

"  To  be  sure,  child ;  why  should  n't  I  ?  It 's 
nat'ral  in  young  'uns  to  like  play,  I  s'pose. 
We  grown-ups  like  play  now  and  then,  too, 
o'  course." 

He  wrent  on  slowly  finishing  his  bread  and 
cheese  and  radishes,  never  taking  his  eyes  off 
me,  and  then  he  said, — 

"That 's  for  Peep  ;  have  n't  you  anything 
to  ask  me  for  yourself,  Bab  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Uncle  ;  where  's  <  Lloyd's '  ?  " 

He  suddenly  dropped  his  knife  with  a 
clang  on  to  his  plate,  and  said, — 

"What?" 

"  Where 's'  '  Lloyd's,'  Uncle,  —  the  place 
you  said  you  were  going  to  this  morn- 
ing, you  know  ?  Is  it  in  London  ?  Is  it 


38  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

near    where    we    lived  ?      Is  it  near    Mrs. 
Wall's  ?  " 

"  Of  all  the  rum  gals  I  ever —  Well,  it's 
not  so  very  far  from  that. alley  I  found  you 
in  ;  but  what  do  you  want  to  know  for  ?  " 

"  Because  next  time  you  go  to  '  Lloyd's,' 
Uncle,  please  would  you  take  me  with 
you?" 

"  Take  you  with  me  to  '  Lloyd's ' !  Why, 
it 's  only  a  place  to  get  news  about  ships 
from  ;  what  should  a  bit  of  a  gal  like  you 
want  to  go  there  for  ? " 

"  I  don't  want  to  go  there,  Uncle.  But  if 
it's  near  Mrs.  Wall's,  I  wish  you'd  take  me 
to  her." 

"  Do  you  want  to  go  back  to  her?" 
"  Not  to  stay,  Uncle,  only  to  speak  to  her." 
"  What  do  you  want  to  say  to  her,  Bab  ?  " 
"  I  want  to  tell  her  I  thought  it  was  good 
of  her  to  give  Peep  and  me  that  milk  for 
nothing,  last  morning,  when  father  said  he  'd 
no  money  left.     She  was  very  cross ;  but  she 
must  have  given  us  that  milk  for  kindness, 
and  I  want  to  tell  her  so  and  thank  her." 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  39 

Uncle  did  n't*  answer  directly,  but  only 
kept  staring  at  me.  I  heard  him  say  between 
his  teeth,  — 

"  The  rummest,  the  very  rummest  — " 
without  finishing.  Then  he  began  again, 
"Is  there  anything  partic'ler  you'd  like  to 
have,  Bab  ?  " 

"  To  go  to  Mrs.  Wall's,  Uncle." 

"  Ay,  ay,  I  know  that ;  but  I  mean  any 
toy,  or  doll,  or  gimcrack,  to  play  with?" 

"  Yes,  Uncle  ;  oh,  yes,  Uncle  !  There  is 
one  thing  I  should  like  to  have  beyond 
anything  in  the  world." 

"  Well,  out  with  it,  Bab ;  what  is  it  ?  " 

"The  old  shell!  the  speckled  shell!  the 
shell  on  Mrs.  Wall's  mantel-shelf  I  "  I  said  ; 
and  I  could  n't  help  clasping  my  hands  with 
joy  only  to  think  of  it. 

"  A  shell !  " 

"  Yes,  Uncle ;  the  shell  that  mother  used 
to  hold  to  our  ears  that  we  might  hear  the 
sound  of  the  sea,  where  Uncle  was  always 
sailing  on,  —  the  shell  that  father  liked  to 
hold  in  his  hands,  and  kept  smoothing  and 


40  UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I. 

smoothing  it  when  he  talked  to  us  of  mother 
after  she  went  away  to  heaven.  Oh,  if  I 
could  have  that  shell  for  my  very  own, 
Uncle!  Do  you  think  I  could?" 

"  We  '11  see  about  it,  Bab,"  Uncle  said,  in 
a  very  quiet  tone,  quite  different  from  the 
roaring  voice  he  generally  talked  in. 

When  I  took  Peep  up  to  bed  that  night, 
I  asked  him  if  he  would  like  to  go  to  Mrs. 
Wall's  with  me,  in  case  Uncle  should  take 
me  there. 

"  No,  Bab,  I  should  n't." 

"  But  should  you  mind  being  left  alone 
without  me  here,  Peep  ?  " 

"  No,  Bab,  not  if  I  should  have  Ned  Carter 
to  play  with  me  while  you  're  gone." 

"  Then  I  '11  ask  Uncle  to  let  Ned  come 
here  the  day  I  'in  away,  Peep." 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND  I.  41 


CHAPTER 


|AL  had  made  us  up  a  bed  in  a  room 
that  led  from  the  staircase-landing, 
on  the  opposite  side  to  the  one 
where  we  slept  the  first  night ; 
but  it  looked  on  the  garden  just  the  same, 
and  I  could  see  the  trees,  and  the  grass,  and 
the  pigeons  quite  as  well.  After  breakfast, 
before  Uncle  went  away  to  town,  Sal  asked 
him  whether  he  wanted  her  to  buy  some 
night-clothes  for  the  children,  as  they  had 
none  of  their  own,  nor  any  change  of  linen 
at  all,  for  that  matter,  as  they  'd  been  brought 
here  in  such  a  hurry,  she  supposed  they  'd 
left  their  box  behind  'em. 

"  Get  what 's  needful  for  'em,  Sal,  and  let 
me  know  what  there  is  to  pay,"  said  Uncle, 
as  he  walked  off  along  the  garden-path  and 
slammed  the  gate  behind  him. 


42  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND  I. 

When  I  saw  Sal  putting  on  her  bonnet  and 
shawl,  I  said,  — 

"Would  you  mind  letting  Peep  and  me 
go  with  you,  Sal  ?  " 

"  What  should  you  want  to  go  for  ?  "  she 
said,  in  a  rather  more  snappish  tone  than 
usual. 

"It'd  amuse  us;  we  should  like  to  see 
what  it 's  like  outside  the  garden." 

"  I  dare  say ;  just  like  you  child'n's  cur'os- 
ity.  What  d'  ye  expect  to  see  ? " 

"I  don't  know ;  that 's  just  why  we  'd  like 
to  go,  and  find  out  what  there  is  to  look  at" 

"  No  great  thing,  I  can  tell  you ;  just  a 
village  like  other  villages  near  London, — 
a  shop  or  two,  that's  all." 

"  Oh,  but  we  like  to  look  into  shop-windows, 
especially  toyshops,  where  there  are  dogs, 
and  horses,  and  baa-lambs,  and  wagoner's 
carts,  and  windmills,  and  —  " 

"  Now,  don't  you  think  we  're  going  to 
toyshops.  We  're  going  to  nothing  o'  the 
kind ;  we  're  going  to  a  shop  for  calico  and 
useful  things." 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  43 

"  Never  mind,  we  shall  like  to  go  there,  and 
see  you  choose  what  you  're  going  to  buy." 

Sal  did  n't  answer ;  so  I  thought  she  meant 
not  to  forbid  us.  Therefore  Peep  and  I 
followed  her  out  at  the  gate,  and  found  our- 
selves in  a  pretty  road,  with  houses  and 
gardens  on  each  side ;  then  a  green  hedge 
for  a  little  way,  with  trees  and  a  high  wall 
opposite ;  and  then  a  few  neat  shops,  into  one 
of  which,  where  there  were  gay  ribbons  and 
bright-colored  prints  hanging  up  in  the 
window,  Sal  suddenly  turned.  Peep  and  I 
watched  her  buy  some  calico,  and  flannel, 
and  socks,  and  handkerchiefs,  till  there  was 
a  good  heap  piled  up  on  the  counter. 

"  Sal,  would  you  mind  having  those  things 
packed  up  in  three  parcels  instead  of  one  ? 
Peep  and  I  would  so  like  to  carry  something 
ourselves." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  dare  say ;  and  let  'em  drop 
into  the  mud,  or  lose  'em,  or  some  mischief. 
No,  thank  ye,  not  I." 

"  Do,  Sal,"  said  Peep.  «  I  should  so  like 
to  carry  home  a  parcel." 


44  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

"  What  persevering  toads  these  child'n  are ! 
Well,  do  'em  up,  miss,  in  three." 

Sal  said  this  to  the  young  woman  who  was 
serving  in  the  shop,  and  who  had  been  look- 
ing at  us  with  a  smile.  When  the  three 
parcels  were  packed  up,  the  young  woman 
picked  a  pretty  ticket  of  pink  and  blue,  bor- 
dered with  gold,  from  off  the  piece  of  calico 
from  which  she  had  cut  the  yards  bought  by 
Sal,  and  then  cut  out  a  still  prettier  red- 
worked  flower,  with  a  long  strip  of  gold  edge 
from  the  end  of  a  piece  of  white  muslin,  and 
putting  the  two  bright  scraps  into  a  bit  of 
paper  each,  she  handed  them  to  Peep  and 
me,  saying,  — 

"  There  's  something  you  'd  like  to  have 
to  play  with,  would  n't  you  ?  " 

"Oh,  yes,  thank  you!"  Peep  and  I  said, 
joyfully,  both  together,  as  we  stopped  behind 
Sal  for  a  moment  to  say  this,  while  she 
bounced  out  of  the  shop. 

"  Come  along,  you  dratted  child'n ;  you 
want  to  come  out  o'  doors  with  me,  and  then 
you  straggle  about.  I  've  no  time  to  lose,  if 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND  I.  45 

I'm  to  be  back  in  time  to  cook  the  dinner 
for  the  Cap'n;  and  I've  still  got  to  give 
the  night-clothes  and  things  to  be  stitched 
and  made." 

There  was  a  neat  little  cottage  in  a  small 
garden,  with  a  card  hanging  in  the  window, 
and  on  the  card  were  big  letters  that  I  could 
read,  "Needlework  done  here."  Into  this 
cottage  Sal  went,  and  she  gave  the  calico  and 
the  flannel  to  a  very  pretty  young  woman 
who  was  there,  telling  her  she  wanted  'em 
made  into  shirts  and  shifts  and  petticoats  of 
our  size  ;  and  she  wanted  the  socks  and  hand- 
kerchiefs marked,  all  as  soon  as  possible. 

"  I  'in  afraid  I  can't  let  you  have  them  till 
next  week,"  said  the  pretty  young  woman,  in 
one  of  the  sweetest  of  voices  I  ever  heard ; 
"my  mother  is  very  ill,  and  nursing  her 
takes  up  almost  all  my  time  just  now ;  but 
if  you  could  give  me  till  next  week,  I  can 
promise  them  faithfully,  I  think." 

"  You  think ! "  said  Sal,  in  her  most  snap- 
pish tone. 

"I   mean   I'll   do   my   best   to  get  them 


46  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

finished  by  the  time  I  promise  them,"  said 
the  young  woman,  gently. 

"  Well,  then,  Thursday,  next  week,  I  shall 
expect  'em  home  without  fail,  Miss  King." 

"  Where  shall  I  bring'them  to  ?  " 

"  To  Cap'n  Bruff's,  Trafalgar  Lodge." 

I  noticed,  though  I  don't  think  Sal  did,  that 
the  gentle-voiced  young  woman  gave  a  little 
start  as  Sal  said  this. 

"  What  mark  shall  I  put  on  the  things  ?  " 
said  the  young  woman,  after  waiting  a  mo- 
ment without  speaking. 

"Oh,  by  the  bye,  I  don't  azackly  know. 
They  've  queer  names,  —  Bab  and  Peep ;  but 
I  never  heard  their  surnames.  They  're  niece 
and  nevVy  to  Cap'n  Bruff,  and  you  can  put  a 
B  and  a  P  on  their  clothes ;  that  '11  do  to  know 
'em  by.  He  brought  the  child'n  home  sud- 
den, without  a  word  to  me ;  so  how  should  I 
know  their  right  names  ?  " 

"  A  '  B  and  a  P ' ;  very  well,"  was  the  quiet 
answer.  And  then  we  left  the  cottage  and 
went  home. 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  47 


CHAPTER  IV. 


]HE  following  morning,  after  break- 
fast, Uncle  said,  — 

"Peep,  you'll  find  Ned  Carter 
in  the  garden,  ready  to  have  a 
game  with  you;  and  Bab,  you  and  I'll  be  off 
to  town,  to  Mrs.  Wall's.  There 's  a  hack  at 
the  door,  for  I  s'pose  your  little  legs  could  n't 
be  expected  to  toddle  so  far.  Sharp's  the 
word,  young  'uns.  Look  out !  " 

After  seeing  Peep  and  Ned  Carter  happily 
racing  together  round  the  flower-beds,  I  put 
my  hand  in  Uncle's  and  we  went  to  the  gar- 
den-gate, where  a  hackney  coach  was  waiting, 
into  which  he  lifted  me,  and  we  drove  along, 
he  staring  out  of  the  window,  silent,  as  usual. 
When  we  stopped  at  the  door  of  the  house 
where  I  had  lived  ever  since  I  could  remem- 
ber, with  father,  mother,  and  Peep,  —  so  hap- 


48  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

pily  while  father  and  mother  were  not  gone 
away,  —  I  felt  as  if  I  must  have  cried ;  but  I 
thought  it  might  vex  Uncle,  so  I  kept  in  my 
tears  as  well  as  I  could,  and  went  upstairs 
with  him  to  the  old  room  I  knew  so  well. 
It  looked  odd  and  strange  though,  somehow ; 
but  I  turned  straight  to  Mrs.  Wall,  who  had 
come  into  the  room  with  us,  and  said  to 
her, — 

"I  asked  Uncle  to  bring  me  here  to  say 
thank  you,  Mrs.  Wall,  for  giving  Peep  and 
me  some  milk  that  morning  father  was  taken 
away  from  us,  and  we  had  nothing  left.  So, 
thank  you,  Mrs.  Wall." 

I  went  to  her,  and  would  have  put  up  my 
mouth  to  kiss  her,  if  she  had  looked  as  if  she 
wished  it ;  but  she  did  n't,  so  I  kept  still,  look- 
ing up  in  her  face,  and  thinking  how  cross  it 
was,  and  how  hard,  and  how  straight  her 
mouth  was,  just  as  I  always  remembered  it. 

Uncle  brought  out  from  his  coat-tail  pocket 
a  lumpy,  roundish  parcel,  and  took  off  the 
whitey-brown  paper  it  was  wrapped  in,  say- 
ing*— 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  49 

"  I  've  brought  you  a  little  milk- jug,  mum, 
if  you  'd  like  to  have  it.  I  thought  mayhap 
you  would,  to  remind  you  of  Bab's  wanting 
to  come  and  thank  you  for  giving  her  and 
Peep  that  milk  that  day.  It  was  a  rum  start, 
her  wanting  to  do  it;  but  she's  rum  alto- 
gether, and  she  did." 

"  Lauk-a-mussy  me  !  What  a  to-do  about 
a  ha'p'orth  o'  milk !  I  give  it  'em,  o'  course, 
nat' rally,  when  I  know'd  they  was  left  starv- 
ing orphans.  As  long  as  their  father  lived, 
he  allus  paid  his  rent  reg'lar  for  his  logdin' ; 
even  though  he  had  to  pinch  hisself  and  his 
child'n's  stomicks  for  it,  many  a  time.  That 
I  will  say  for  him." 

While  Mrs.  Wall  was  saying  this,  I  was 
looking  up  at  the  mantel-shelf,  where  I  spied 
the  speckled  shell  in  its  old  place.  Uncle 
saw  my  eyes  fixed  on  it,  and  he  walked  over 
to  the  mantel-shelf,  taking1  the  shell  into  his 
big  hand,  where  it  seemed  almost  hidden. 

"  I  've  been  a  seafaring  man,  Mrs.  Wall, 
and  I  Ve  a  fancy  for  shells  from  foreign  parts. 

Would  you   have   any   objection  to   parting 

4 


50  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND  I. 

with  this  one  ?  What  might  you  want  for  it, 
now?" 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know ;  it  might  be  wuth  a 
matter  o'  half  a  crown,  or  it  might  be  wuth 
tuppence.  I'm  no  judge  o'  shells  myself." 

"  But  I  am,  mum ;  and  I  should  say  a  half- 
crown  would  n't  be  more  than  you'd  get  for 
it,  if  you  felt  inclined  to  sell  it." 

"  Well,  then,  you  can  have  it  for  that." 

Uncle  put  his  hand  in  his  trouser  pocket, 
rattled  some  silver  there,  drew  out  a  half- 
crown,  put  it  into  Mrs.  Wall's  hand,  and  tak- 
ing mine,  walked  straight  out  of  the  room, 
and  we  left  the  house. 

As  we  drove  along  in  the  coach,  Uncle 
held  the  shell  in  his  hand  loosely,  as  if  he 
hardly  knew  he  had  it  there,  for  he  kept  look- 
ing out  of  the  window,  thinking  and  think- 
ing, while  I  kept  watching  the  least  scraps  of 
the  shell  that  peeped  beyond  his  fingers; 
then  Uncle  seemed  to  remember  he  had  the 
shell,  for  he  wrapped  it  up  in  the  crumpled 
whitey-brown  paper  he  had  taken  off  the 
inilk-jug,  and  held  it  covered  up  in  a  parcel, 


UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND   I.  51 

as  he  turned  to  look  out  of  the  window 
again. 

I  did  n't  like  to  disturb  his  thinking,  but  I 
could  n't  help  longing  and  longing  to  see  the 
shell,  and  touch  the  shell,  to  have  it  in  my 
own  hands.  At  last  I  took  courage,  and  got 
quite  close  to  Uncle,  till  he  felt  ine  against 
his  side.  He  looked  round  hastily,  as  if  he  'd 
been  wakened  out  of  a  dream,  and  said,  with 
his  gruff  voice,  — 

"  Well,  what  is  it,  little  'un  ?  " 

"  If  you  please,  Uncle,  if  it  would  n't  trou- 
ble you  much,  would  you  let  me  carry  the 
shell?" 

"  Carry  the  shell,  Bab  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Uncle ;  would  you  mind  letting  me 
hold  it  in  my  own  hands,  and  look  at  it,  and 
touch  it,  and  smooth  it,  as  we  ride  along. 
I  '11  be  very  careful  of  it,  and  won't  let  it  fall 
and  break ;  and  I  '11  give  it  you  back  as  soon 
as  we  reach  home." 

"  Give  it  me  back,  Bab  ?  Why,  I  got  it  for 
you  ;  it 's  yours,  little  'un." 

"Mine!     Oh,  Uncle!" 


52  UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND   I. 

I  took  it  in  both  hands,  —  for  it  was  as  big 
and  bulgy  in  one  of  mine  as  it  seemed  small 
in  his,  —  and  I  held  it  close  to  me,  and  bent 
my  head  over  it,  that  I  mightn't  show  my 
eyes  were  wet.  Uncle  turned  toward  the 
window  again,  and  I  thought  he  was  n't  no- 
ticing me.  So  I  softly  pulled  the  paper  off, 
and  could  see  and  pat  the  shell  as  much  as 
ever  I  liked.  And  oh,  how  I  did  pat  it,  and 
stroke  it,  and  whisper  to  it  about  father  and 
about  mother  when  they  were  fond  of  it  too ! 
When  I  came  to  thinking  about  mother,  I 
remembered  how  she  put  it  to  our  ears,  and 
told  Peep  and  me  about  hearing  the  sea, 
where  Uncle  was ;  and  then  I  lifted  it  up  and 
listened,  and  heard  the  sound  of  far-off  sea 
waves,  that  she  used  to  talk  of.  The  shell 
nearly  slipped  out  of  my  hand,  at  the  start  I 
gave  when  Uncle  turned  suddenly  round  to- 
wards me  and  said,  — 

"  What  are  you  trying  to  hear,  Bab,  —  the 
noise  of  the  sea  ?  " 

I  nodded,  for  somehow  I  could  n't  get  out 
any  words. 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  53 

"  Where  Dolly  —  where  your  mother  — 
said  I  was  sailing  ?  " 

I  nodded  again,  and  Uncle  turned  away, 
and  looked  out  of  the  window  as  steadily  as 
before. 

I  looked  at  his  wide  back,  as  I  turned  and 
turned  the  speckled  shell  round  and  round  in 
my  hands,  and  I  found  myself  thinking,  "  I 
wish  Uncle  would  n't  keep  his  back  towards 
me ;  I  should  so  like  to  give  him  a  hug,  and 
tell  him  how  glad  I  am  to  have  this  dear  old 
shell  again,  and  have  it  for  my  very  own." 

But  Uncle  did  keep  his  back  towards  me, 
and  his  face  turned  to  the  coach  window ;  so 
I  began  to  forget  about  giving  him  a  hug,  and 
kept  smoothing  my  shell  all  the  way  home ; 
and  I  thought  of  nothing  but  the  joy  of  its 
being  mine,  —  mine  for  always. 

The  moment  the  coach  stopped  and  the 
door  was  opened,  I  nearly  fell  on  my  nose, 
from  the  hurry  in  which  I  tried  to  get  out 
by  myself  and  show  Peep  my  treasure ;  but 
Uncle  snatched  at  my  skirts,  and  said,  — 

"  Hullo,  little  'un  !    Mind  yourself!    You'll 


54  UNCLE,    PEEP,  AND   I. 

break  your  neck,  if  you  fling  yourself  out  of 
the  hack  that  way.  Wait  a  bit,  till  I  give 
you  a  heave." 

He  got  out  himself,  and  then  lifted  me  out 
in  that  soft,  strong  way  of  his,  which  always 
made  me  so  like  to  feel  myself  in  his  big 
arms.  I  recollect  thinking  again,  even  at 
that  moment,  when  I  was  full  of  showing  my 
shell  to  Peep,  how  glad  I  should  have  been  if 
Uncle  had  cared  to  let  me  give  him  a  good 
hug,  and  thank  him  for  getting  the  shell  for 
me ;  and  how  pleasant  it  would  be  if  he  gave 
me  a  good  hug  in  return,  though  his  coat- 
sleeves  were  rough  and  his  voice  was  rougher 
still. 

I  ran  to  Peep,  who  was  sitting  on  the 
garden-seat,  watching  Ned  Carter  dig  up  one 
of  the  beds  that  was  to  be  replanted.  Peep 
started  up  and  flew  to  meet  me ;  and  he  was 
nearly  as  glad  as  I  expected,  to  find  I  had  got 
the  speckled  shell.  But  he  was  full  of  the 
games  of  play  he  and  Ned  had  had  together, 
and  he  could  hardly  talk  of  anything  else. 
Once  he  broke  off  to  say,  — 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  55 

"  Did  n't  you  bring  back  anything  for  me, 
Bab  ?  " 

"  No,  Peep ;  I  'm  sorry,  but  I  could  n't  buy 
anything  for  you,  —  we  've  no  money,  you 
know, — or  I'd  have  brought  you  a  barking 
toy  dog." 

"  I  'd  rather  have  had  a  toy  wheelbarrow, 
like  Ned's,  Bab." 

"  I  only  wish  I  could  have  bought  you  one, 
Peep.  But  never  mind ;  this  dear  old  shell 
shall  be  yours  as  well  as  mine  ;  we  '11  always 
call  it  ours." 

"  No, Bab,  thank  you;  I  don't  think  I  care  so 
much  about  the  shell  as  you  do.  It 's  yours. 
I  '11  tell  you  what  I  've  thought.  I  want  Uncle 
to  let  me  have  a  wheelbarrow  that  I  can  wheel 
about  and  put  weeds  in,  and  help  Ned  Carter 
to  weed  the  garden.  You  shall  ask  Uncle  for 
me,  Bab ;  because  I  don't  like  asking  Uncle, 
and  you  don't  mind  asking  him,  do  you  ?  " 

"  Well,  —  no,  —  not  much,  Peep  ;  only,  just 
now,  when  he  's  given  me  this  shell,  I  don't 
care  to  ask  him  for  anything  fresh ;  it  seems 
like,  like  —  " 


56  UNCLE,   PEEP,    AND   I. 

"  Oh,  if  you  don't  choose  to  do  it  for  me, 
Bab,  let  it  alone ;  I  don't  want  to  make  you 
ask ;  only  if  you  did  n't  very  much  mind 
asking,  I  should  like  to  have  a  wheelbarrow 
beyond  anything.  Just  as  you  liked  to  have 
the  shell,  Bab." 

"Yes,  Peep;  I'll  think  about  it;  and  111 
try  —  for  you,  Peep." 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  thank  you,  dear,  dear  Bab ! " 

And  Peep  gave  me  a  tight  squeeze  round 
my  neck  with  both  his  chubby  arms,  and  his 
rosy  cheek  pressed  hard  against  mine,  so  that 
I  felt  I  could  even  ask  Uncle  for  another  gift 
so  soon  after  he  had  made  me  this  one. 

When  we  had  done  dinner  that  day,  Sal 
gave  Uncle  an  account  of  what  she  had  laid 
out  in  new  linen  for  us ;  and  as  she  reckoned 
up  what  she  had  spent  in  flannel,  calico,  socks, 
and  handkerchiefs,  my  cheeks  got  very  hot 
to  think  how  much  Peep  and  I  must  cost  him 
to  keep  us  ;  and  I  felt  still  more  unwilling  to 
ask  him  for  the  wheelbarrow  Peep  wanted. 
Till,  all  of  a  sudden,  I  heard  Sal  say,  — 

"  And  there  's  still  the  making  to  pay  for ; 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  57 

but  that  won't  be  till  next  week,  Cap'n,  as 
Miss  King  says  she  can't  get  'em  done  till 
then,  because  her  mother  's  so  ill." 

I  chanced  to  be  looking  at  Uncle's  face, 
and  I  noticed  that  it  got  as  red  as  I  felt  mine 
was.  His  eyes  looked  quite  fierce,  too,  as  he 
roared  out  in  his  gruffest  voice,  — 

«  Miss  who  ?  " 

"  Miss  King,  Cap'n.  She  takes  in  needle- 
work ;  and  I  've  heard  say  she  's  a  very  neat 
worker,  so  I  thought  I  'd  give  the  things  to 
her  to  be  made  and  marked." 

Uncle  hunched  himself  round  towards  the 
fire  with  a  short  grunt,  and  said  nothing  more. 
Presently  he  thrust  his  hand  in  his  trouser 
pocket,  rattled  the  silver,  and  drew  out  sev- 
eral shillings,  sixpences,  and  half-crowns, 
counted  out  the  sum  Sal  had  said  she  had 
paid,  and  pushed  it  towards  her,  saying,  — 

"  There,  that 's  what  you  've  spent ;  and 
you  can  let  me  know  what  the  rest  comes  to, 
when  you  pay  it,  Sal." 

She  gathered  up  the  money  and  bounced 
off  into  the  kitchen. 


58  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

Uncle  kept  his  eyes  on  the  fire,  and  his 
back  and  shoulders  seemed  wider  and  rougher 
than  ever,  as  I  looked  at  them,  pondering 
how  I  could  get  courage  to  speak  to  him 
and  break  through  this  silence.  Then  Peep 
softly  nudged  me,  and  whispered,  — 

"  Ask  him  now,  Bab.  Oh,  I  do  want  the 
wheelbarrow  so  much !  I  want  it  by  the 
time  Ned  Carter  comes  here,  and  then  I  can 
garden  with  him." 

It  all  of  a  sudden  came  into  my  head  that 
perhaps  by  helping  Ned  to  weed,  Peep  might 
be  doing  something  useful  to  Uncle  in  return 
for  so  much  that  he  was  doing  for  us;  and 
this  gave  me  courage  to  blurt  out,  — 

"  Uncle,  do  you  mind  my  interrupting 
you?" 

"  Interrupt  me,  Bab  ?     In  what  ?  " 

"  In  thinking.  You  're  thinking,  I  sup- 
pose, when  you  keep  quiet  so  long  without 
speaking,  Uncle." 

"  Thinking  ?  Yes,  well,  I  was  thinking, 
sure  enough." 

"  I  want  to  ask  you  something,  Uncle." 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  59 

"  Now,  then,  little  'un,  speak  up  ;  out  with 
it.  What  is  it  ?  " 

"  I  Ve  been  thinking,  too,  Uncle ;  and  I  've 
thought  that  if  you  had  a  wheelbarrow  made 
for  Peep,  —  smaller,  you  know,  just  the  size 
that  he  could  wheel  about,  —  he  might  help 
Ned  to  work,  instead  of  hindering  him  to 
play." 

"  Ton  my  word  !  No  bad  idea  !  Well, 
Bab,  I  will  say  this  for  you,  you  have  the 
very  sensiblest  notions  in  that  bit  of  a  noddle 
of  yours  that  I  ever  heard  tell  of  in  a  chit 
of  your  age.  They  'd  do  credit  to  a  grown 
woman,  that  they  would !  I  '11  step  round  to 
Dick  Carpenter's  to-morrow,  and  speak  to  him 
about  knocking  together  just  such  a  sized 
barrow  as  '11  do  for  Peep." 

"  Oh,  Uncle  !  A  barrow  !  A  real  wheel- 
barrow, for  me  !  Oh,  Uncle,  you  good,  big, 
kind  Uncle  !  " 

Peep  clapped  his  hands  on  high,  and  his 
eyes  sparkled  with  joy.  Uncle  stared  round 
at  him,  then  turned  again  to  the  fire,  and  re- 
mained some  time  with  his  eyes  fixed  upon 


60  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

the  red-hot  coals;  By  and  by,  giving  him- 
self a  large  rough  shake,  he  said,  gruffly,  — 

"  Come,  it 's  high  time  for  you  young  'uns 
to  be  off  to  bed,  ain't  it  ?  " 

Upon  which  Peep  and  I  said  "  Good-night, 
Uncle,"  and  went  straight  upstairs. 


UNCLE,   PEEP,  AND   I. 


61 


CHAPTER  V. 

LL  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day 
Peep  hung  about  the  garden  in  a 
dull  sort  of  way,  as  if  he  could  n't 
play  or  run,  or  do  anything  but 
talk  of  the  wheelbarrow  he  had  been  prom- 
ised. 

"  Do  you  think  Uncle  has  thought  about  it, 
Bab  ?  Do  you  think  he  remembered  to  go 
and  order  the  carpenter  to  make  it,  as  he  said 
he  would  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Peep,  I  should  think  he  has ;  Uncle 's 
always  as  good  as  liis  word,  generally  bet- 
ter ;  for  he  don't  say  much,  but  he  does  much 
for  us." 

"  How  you  keep  patting  and  petting  that 
shell,  Bab,"  said  Peep,  pettishly.  "  You  seem 
as  if  you  could  think  of  nothing  else  ;  you 


62  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

can't  be  attending  to  what  I  'm  saying  about 
my  wheelbarrow." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  can  ;  I  do,  Peep.  I  'm  hoping 
quite  as  much  as  you  are,  that  you  11  have  it 
soon." 

"  Do  you  think  the  carpenter  can  get  it 
done  by  to-morrow,  Bab  ?  " 

"  Well,  perhaps  not  to-morrow,  Peep." 

Peep  flung  himself  on  the  garden-seat,  and 
gave  a  vexed  sigh. 

«  Next  day,  then,  Bab  ?  " 

"  "Well,  perhaps,  next  day." 

Peep  flounced  round  to  his  other  side,  away 
from  me,  saying,  — 

"  Oh,  Bab  !  How  tiresome  and  patient  you 
are !  Do  put  down  that  shell  and  feel  angry, 
with  me,  about  having  to  wait  so  long  for  my 
barrow." 

I  laughed  a  little ;  but  Peep  flounced 
sharply  back  again  towards  me,  and  said  in 
a  furious  tone,  — 

"Don't  laugh,  Bab!" 

"  I  won't,  Peep.  There,  I  've  put  the  shell 
down,  and  I  'm  quite  thinking  about  your 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  63 

barrow.  I  should  n't  at  all  wonder  if  Uncle 
has  told  the  man  to  be  as  quick  as  ever  he 
can  in  making  it." 

"  Do  you  really  think  so,  Bab  ?  " 
And  Peep  started  up  and  gave  me  a  hearty 
squeeze.  I  was  looking  over  his  shoulder  as 
he  did  this,  and  I  saw  the  garden-gate  open, 
and  a  man  come  in,  bringing  something  with 
him  that  made  me  cry  out,  — 

"  Look  there,  Peep  !     Oh,  look  there  !  " 
Peep  looked  round,  scrambled  off  the  gar- 
den-seat, and  ran  towards  the  man,  shouting, 
"  A  barrow !     A  little  barrow  !     It 's  mine  ! 
It 's  meant  for  me  !  " 

"  Yes,  young  master,"  said  the  man ;  "  Cap'n 
Bruff  came  to  my  shop  this  morning,  and 
axed  me  if  I  could  make  him  in  double-quick 
time  a  barrow  fit  for  a  little  chap  under  six 
year  old,  and  as  lucked  have  it,  I  'd  got  this 
one  ready-made.  It  was  ordered  by  Sir 
James  Buckhurst  for  his  little  son ;  but  he 
changed  his  mind  for  a  four-wheeled  cart,  so 
this  was  left  on  my  hands,  an'  I  let  the  Cap'n 
have  it  at  a  bargain.  He  paid  me  for  it, 


64  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

there  and  then,  and  told  me  to  bring  it  up 
here  as  sharp  as  I  could ;  so  here  it  is." 

"  You  see,  Peep,  I  told  you  Uncle 's  always 
as  good  as  his  word,  and  better." 

But  Peep  was  too  busy  wheeling  his  barrow 
about,  and  trying  it  at  once,  to  notice  much 
what  I  said. 

"  Bab,  you  stoop  and  pick  the  weeds  and 
put  'em  in  my  barrow,  and  then  I  can  do  like 
Ned  Carter,  and  wheel  'em  away  to  the 
heap." 

"  Ned  stoops  and  weeds,  as  well  as  wheels 
them  away  in  the  barrow,  Peep,"  I  said, 
laughing. 

"  I  told  you  not  to  laugh,  Bab ;  I  don't 
like  you  to  laugh  at  what  I  say.  I  want  you 
to  help  me  weeding." 

"  Well,  then,  I  '11  wheel  the  barrow,  Peep, 
and  you  can  stoop  for  the  weeds." 

"No,  I  want  to  wheel  my  own  barrow, 
Bab ;  if  you  help  me,  you  must  do  what  I 
tell  you." 

I  felt  very  much  inclined  to  laugh  again  at 
Peep's  grand,  ordering  way,  and  he  such  a 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  65 

little  bit  of  a  fellow ;  but  I  did  n't  want  to 
vex,  so  I  set  to,  picking  the  weeds  as  hard  as 
I  could. 

While  Peep  and  I  were  busy  at  this,  a  big 
boy  came  lounging  in  at  the  garden-gate, 
and  stopped  suddenly  to  look  at  us,  with  his 
hands  in  his  pockets. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  he  asked,  bluffly. 

"  We  're  Bab  and  Peep,"  I  answered. 

"  Oh,  you  are,  are  you  ?  I  've  heard  of 
you  two,  and  of  father's  bringing  you  to  our 
house.  But  I  'm  home  for  the  holidays  now, 
so  I  can  see  what  you  're  like  with  my  own 
eyes." 

"What,  are  you  ' Master  Tom,'  that  Sal 
spoke  of  ?  "  I  said. 

"Yes,  I'm  Tom,  — Tom  Bruff.  I  ain't 
one  to  stand  any  nonsense,  you  know,  so  I 
tell  you  at  once  you  need  n't  give  me  any." 

"  We  have  n't  any  to  give  you,"  I  said. 

"  Do  you  mean  that  for  sauce  ?  "  said  Tom. 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  I  replied. 

"  Don't  you,  though  ?  Well,  I  mean  this  : 
I  mean  to  be  master  here." 

5 


66  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

"  Of  course.  "Why  you  are  master,  here ; 
you  're  Master  Tom.  Sal  calls  you  so,  and  so 
do  we." 

"  Oh,  then  you  've  talked  me  over,  have 
you,  already?" 

"  Yes,  we  wanted  to  see  you ;  and  we 
hoped  you  'd  come  home  soon,  that  we  might 
see  what  kind  of  a  boy  you  are." 

"  Well,  you  see,  now ;  and  you  see  I  'm  not 
one  to  have  his  nose  put  out  o'  joint  with 
father,  or  one  to  put  up  with  any  gammon ; 
so  just  you  mind  what  you're  about,  you 
two." 

I  looked  at  Tom's  nose,  and  I  wondered 
again  what  he  meant ;  but  I  did  n't  answer. 
Presently  he  made  a  dive  into  the  wheel- 
barrow, snatched  up  handful  after  handful  of 
the  weeds  we  'd  collected,  and  strewed  them 
on  the  gravel-path,  finally  giving  a  kick  to 
the  wheelbarrow. 

This  last  rudeness  to  his  dear  new  barrow 
made  Peep  burst  out  a-crying,  and  I  ran  to 
comfort  him. 

"  Cry,  baby,   cry.     Put  its  finger  in  its 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND    I.  67 

eye  !  If  there  is  a  thing  I  detest,  it 's  a  cry- 
baby," said  Tom,  tauntingly. 

"Why  did  you  make  him  cry,  then?"  1 
said. 

The  boy  turned  on  his  heel  and  did  n't  an- 
swer ;  so  I  wiped  Peep's  eyes,  and  whispered 
to  him,  — 

"  Never  mind ;  when  he  's  gone  away,  I  '11 
help  you  to  pick  up  the  weeds  and  put  'em  in 
the  barrow  again." 

"  But  he  won't  be  gone  away,  Bab ;  he  '11 
be  staying  here,  living  here,  you  know.  Un- 
cle 's  his  father,  and  he  '11  keep  him  at 
home." 

"  Perhaps  only  as  long  as  the  holidays, 
Peep ;  he  '11  most  likely  only  stay  here  till 
they  're  over,  and  then  go  back  to  school." 

Peep  cleared  up  a  little  at  this;  but  just 
then  I  caught  sight  of  Tom,  who  had  lounged 
over  to  the  garden-seat,  where  I  had  left  my 
shell  when  I  went  to  help  at  weeding,  and 
saw  him  take  it  up  in  his  big  fists  and  begin 
tossing  it  up  in  the  air  and  catching  it,  like  a 
ball. 


68  UNCLE,   PEEP,    AND   I. 

"Oh,  my  shell!  my  shell!  It'll  drop! 
It  '11  break  !  "  I  cried.  ' 

Tom  only  laughed  a  scoffing  laugh,  and 
went  on  tossing  up  the  shell  higher  and 
higher. 

"  Oh,  pray  don't !  pray  don't !  It  '11  get 
broken !  " 

"  Don't  you  fret  yourself!  I  sha  n't  drop  it. 
See  here ! " 

And  Tom  flung  himself  down  full-length 
on  the  garden-seat,  tossing  up  the  shell  as  he 
lay  flat  on  his  back.  This  brought  his  head 
down  very  low,  —  so  low,  that  while  I  was 
screaming  to  him  and  begging  him  to  stop, 
I  did  n't  notice  that  Peep  had  crept  round 
and  got  quite  close  to  Tom,  whose  upturned 
face  was  just  within  Peep's  reach.  Then  I 
saw  Peep  suddenly  bang  his  little  bit  of  a 
hand  right  between  the  big  boy's  cheeks. 

"  You  give  up  Bab's  shell !  "  said  Peep, 
through  his  ground  teeth. 

Tom's  nose  burst  out  a-bleeding  ;  and  I 
saw  in  Peep's  hand  a  jagged  flint-stone  that 
he  had  picked  up  as  he  crept  round. 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  69 

"  Oh,  Peep,  what  have  you  done  ?  Killed 
him  !  " 

"  I  don't  care  if  I  have,  Bab  !  Why  didn't 
he  let  your  shell  alone  ?  " 

"  Well  done,  little  Plucky  !  "  shouted  Tom, 
with  a  loud  laugh.  "  You  ain't  the  cry-baby 
I  took  you  for  at  first.  I  like  a  chap  that 
sticks  up  for  his  sister  and  won't  see  her 
teased.  I  think  I  shall  take  a  liking  to  you, 
Peep,  after  all ;  and  here  's  your  shell,  Bab. 
You  see  I  told  you  true  when  I  said  I 
should  n't  drop  it.  I  'm  a  tip-top  hand  at 
tossing  and  catching.  Here  it  is,  all  safe  and 
sound." 

"Oh,  thank  you!  thank  you,  Tom!"  I 
said,  as  I  seized  my  shell  and  cleaned  it  from 
the  blood  that  had  flowed  from  Tom's  nose 
and  smeared  its  speckled  shininess. 

When  we  went  indoors,  Sal  seemed  glad 
to  see  Master  Tom  returned  ;  but  she  soon 
saw  the  blood  on  his  face  and  hands,  and 
spied  some  specks  on  my  chest,  where  I  had 
hugged  the  shell  with  joy  to  get  it  back 
again. 


70  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

"  What  on  earth  have  you  all  been  at,  — 
fighting  already  ?  " 

She  looked  so  hard  at  me,  and  seemed  so 
ready  to  give  me  a  cuff  at  the  bare  thought 
of  my  having  harmed  her  Master  Tom,  that 
he  stepped  between  her  and  me,  and  said,  — 

"  Fighting  ?  Not  a  bit  of  it.  We  're  the 
best  o'  friends  already.  My  nose  came 
against  a  flint-stone  that  set  it  a-bleeding; 
and  Bab's  pinafore  and  handkerchief  got 
spotted  wiping  away  the  blood ;  did  n't  it, 
Bab?" 

I  could  hardly  help  laughing  at  Tom's  way 
of  putting  it,  which  was  true,  and  yet  not 
quite  true.  But  I  thought  he  meant  kindly, 
and  said  it  to  save  us  from  Sal's  anger;  so  I 
answered  nothing,  and  it  passed  off.  She  set 
some  bread  and  cheese  on  the  table,  and  put 
some  fruit  with  it  to  make  a  better  lunch  for 
Master  Tom ;  saying  if  she  'd  known  he  was 
coming  to-day,  she  'd  ha'  made  him  an  apple 
turnover,  that  she  knew  he  was  so  fond  of. 

"  Never  mind,  old  gal ;  you  can  give  it  us 
for  dinner,  you  know  j  and  that  '11  come  to 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND  I.  71 

• 

the  same  thing,  in  honor  of  my  lordship's  re- 
turn home  for  the  holidays,  you  know." 

Tom  helped  the  fruit,  and  cut  off  the  por- 
tions of  bread  and  cheese  himself,  sitting  at 
the  head  of  the  table  in  his  father's  place. 

"  Having  you  there,  Tom,  seems  like  hav- 
ing Uncle  with  us  when  he  's  away,"  I  said. 

Tom  nodded,  and  looked  pleased. 

"  Yes,  when  he  's  away"  said  Peep. 

"  When  father 's  away,  I  'm  master  here, 
of  course." 

"  But  when  he  's  at  home,  he,  's  master ;  and 
I  like  him  to  be  here,"  said  Peep. 

"  Are  you  giving  us  sauce  with  the  bread 
and  cheese  ?  "  said  Tom.  "  You  may  like 
father  best  for  master,  but  you  '11  have  to  like 
me  next  best.  If  he  's  head  master,  I  'm  sec- 
ond master.  Understand  that,  young  chap." 

"  You  must  be  master,  —  always  master : 
you  're  Master  Tom,  you  know,"  I  said, 
laughing. 

Tom  laughed  too,  saying,  — 

"  You  're  a  bright  one,  you  are,  Bab.  Here, 
have  another  apple,  —  this  rosy-cheeked  one." 


72  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

• 

After  lunch,  Tom  sauntered  off,  saying  he 
was  going  to  take  a  turn  through  the  village, 
and  look  up  some  of  the  people  he  knew 
there  ;  and  while  he  was  gone,  Peep  and  I 
had  some  good  fun  in  the  garden,  playing 
with  the  barrow  and  the  shell,  after  I  had 
helped  to  pick  up  the  weeds  that  had  been 
scattered  about. 

"  I  'm  sorry  Tom 's  come  home  for  the  holi- 
days, Bab." 

"  Are  you,  Peep  ?     Why  ?  " 

"  He  's  so  bluff,  and  so  ordering,  and  so  full 
of  his  being  master  over  us,  Bab." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  that  that  much  mat- 
ters, does  it,  Peep  ?  " 

"  Yes.  I  don't  like  it,  Bab.  Till  he  came 
back,  we  could  do  as  we  pleased  all  day  ;  and 
now,  perhaps  he  won't  let  us." 

"  We  don't  know  that  he  won't,  Peep. 
Wait  till  we  see." 

11  We  know  already,  Bab.  I  don't  mind  his 
being  master  in  helping  us  to  the  good  things 
on  the  table ;  but  I  do  mind  his  being  master 
in  flinging  the  weeds  out  of  my  barrow,  and 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  73 

his  chucking  up  your  shell  when  you  told 
him  not.  He  wants  to  master  us  because 
he  's  bigger ;  and  he  can  master  us,  because 
he  's  stronger.  And  I  don't  like  it,  Bab." 

"  Well,  he  was  n't  ill-natured  when  you 
made  his  nose  bleed,  Peep  ;  and  he  was  good- 
natured  when  he  tried  to  hide  who  did  it 
from  Sal." 

Peep  only  grunted,  but  did  n't  answer. 
Presently  he  saw  Ned  Carter  come  into  the 
garden,  and  he  ran  off  to  have  a  game  of 
play  with  him,  and  make  him  carry  him 
about  pick-a-back.  I  watched  Peep  amusing 
himself,  and  was  glad  he  was  amused  ;  but 
I  felt  a  little  dull  after  a  time,  and  a  little 
lonely  at  having  nobody  to  play  with  me.  I 
began  to  think  it  a  little  hard  that  Peep  had 
a  boy  he  liked  for  a  playfellow,  while  there 
was  no  girl  I  liked  to  have  a  game  with  me  ; 
and  I  was  getting  rather  cross  and  almost 
angry  with  Peep  for  leaving  me  by  myself, 
and  I  found  I  was  pouting  and  frowning  and 
letting  myself  get  into  quite  a  bad  humor. 
So  I  got  up  and  fetched  my  shell,  and 


74  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

brought  it  out  in  the  garden,  and  talked  to 
it  a  little  about  father  and  mother  ;  and  after 
a  little  while,  smoothing  it  and  thinking  how 
good  Uncle  had  been  to  get  it  for  me  and 
give  it  to  me,  I  did  n't  feel  so  lonely ;  and  I 
could  watch  Peep  playing  with  Ned  without 
being  vexed  at  all. 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND  I. 


75 


CHAPTER  VI. 

FEW  mornings  after  this,  when  I 
awoke,  I  found  Peep  very  heavy 
and  sleepy,  and  unwilling  to  get 
up;  but  after  some  coaxing  he 
gave  way,  and  let  me  wash  and  dress  him  as 
usual.  Yet  he  seemed  still  but  half  awake ; 
and  even  when  we  went  down  to  the  break- 
fast-parlor he  looked  drowsy,  and  hardly  no- 
ticed what  was  on  the  table,  which  he  gener- 
ally attended  to  a  good  deal. 

"  Oh,  Peep,  here 's  some  honey ! "  I  whis- 
pered to  him,  hoping  that  would  rouse  him. 

He  did  for  a  moment  look  up,  and  his  eyes 
sparkled  with  joy. 

Uncle  was,  as  usual,  hidden  behind  his  big 
newspaper ;  but  Tom  said  briskly,  — 

"  Ay,  here  's  honey,  young  people  !     Have 
some  !     I  '11  help  you." 


76  UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I. 

He  put  some  on  two  slices  of  bread,  and 
passed  them  over  to  Peep  and  me.  I  thanked 
Tom,  and  Peep  took  his  slice  as  if  he  liked 
the  thoughts  of  eating  it ;  but  soon  I  noticed 
that  he  put  it  down  on  his  plate,  with  only  a 
bite  or  two  taken.  Uncle  did  n't  seem  to  see 
anything  that  was  going  on  ;  and  Tom,  when 
his  father  took  his  hat  and  went  away  to 
town,  put  on  his  cap  too,  and  lounged  off  for 
a  turn  in  the  village,  saying,  — 

"  It 's  precious  slow  here  !  " 

As  neither  of  them  had  seen  that  Peep's 
cheeks  were  very  red,  and  that  he  had  eaten 
no  breakfast,  I  thought  it  perhaps  was  not  of 
any  consequence  ;  but  I  could  n't  help  feeling 
very  uncomfortable  about  him  when  I  saw 
that  instead  of  going  out  to  play  in  the  gar- 
den, as  he  generally  did  as  soon  as  we  were 
left  alone,  he  threw  himself  on  the  hearth- 
rug, and  said, — 

"  Oh,  I  've  got  such  a  pain  in  my  head,  Bab  : 
and  I  'm  so  hot,  and  so  I-don't-know-how  !  " 

"  Why  do  you  lie  so  near  the  fire,  Peep,  if 
you  feel  too  hot  ?  " 


UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND   I.  77 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,  Bab ;  I  'm  too  hot, 
and  yet  I  'm  so  shivery." 

I  went  and  sat  down  beside  him  on  the 
rug,  and  made  a  pillow  for  his  head  on  my 
lap,  and  felt  his  red  cheek,  which  was  burn- 
ing like  fire  ! 

"  How  nice  and  cool  your  hand  is,  Bab ! 
Put  it  on  my  forehead  and  hold  it  there." 

I  did,  and  we  sat  quite  still  for  a  little. 
I  thought  very  likely  Peep  was  ill,  and 
wished  I  could  do  something  to  help  him, 
and  get  something  to  give  him,  though  I 
could  n't  tell  what.  I  had  a  great  mind  to 
get  up  and  ask  Sal  about  it ;  but  I  knew  she 
would  be  cross,  as  she  always  was,  —  par- 
ticularly when  we  went  and  troubled  her  in 
her  kitchen.  Besides,  I  thought  if  I  got  up 
I  should  disturb  Peep,  whose  head  was  rest- 
ing on  my  knee,  and  he  seemed  quieter  now 
since  it  was  there.  So  I  sat  and  thought  and 
thought,  and  could  not  help  crying  worse 
than  I  had  been  inclined  to  cry  a  day  or  two 
before  when  I  felt  left  out  from  play.  That 
was  somehow  a  cross  feeling  as  well  as  a  sad 


78  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

one ;  but  now  it  was  nothing  else  but  a  sad, 
sorrowful,  miserable  feeling.  I  was  ashamed 
now  to  have  half  cried  then ;  because  I  now 
found  how  much  worse  it  was  to  be  crying 
for  Peep  than  to  be  crying  for  myself.  It 
was  in  a  confused  way  that  I  thought  all 
this ;  but  I  did  think  it,  and  it  made  me  sob 
more  bitterly  than  ever.  It  then  came  into 
my  head  what  I  once  heard  mother  say,  — 
"  When  you  've  nobody  to  help  yon,  ask  God 
to  help  you."  So  I  tried  to  stop  sobbing,  and 
said,  — 

"  Do,  God,  help  us !  Do,  God,  pity  us ! 
Peep  and  I  have  nobody  to  help  us;  do  you, 
God,  help  us !  " 

While  I  was  saying  this  the  room- door 
opened,  and  Sal  bounced  in  to  clear  away  the 
breakfast-things. 

"  What  in  the  world  are  you  two  idle  brats 
lying  there  for?  Get  up  with  you,  this 
minute,  and  go  and  play  in  the  garden,  and 
let's  have  the  house  quit  of  you  while  I 
sweep  up  a  bit." 

"  Hush,  Sal,  don't  disturb  Peep ;  he  's  quiet 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND  I.  79 

now ;  but  he  says  his  head  aches,  and  I  think 
he  must  be  ill." 

"  Parcel  o'  fancies !  I  've  no  patience  with 
such  nonsense  !  Ill  indeed  !  " 

She  bounced  about  in  her  usual  way,  and 
made  such  a  dreadful  clatter  with  the  break- 
fast-things that  I  thought  Peep  must  be 
waked  up  by  the  noise.  But  he  lay  quite 
still,  and  never  even  opened  his  eyes.  As  I 
sat  watching  Sal's  bounce-about  movements 
and  cross  looks,  I  found  myself  thinking, 
"Is  this  how  God  helps  us?" 

Presently  there  came  a  ring  at  the  door- 
bell, and  Sal  bounced  out  to  see  who  rang. 
I  heard  her  voice  saying, — 

"  Oh,  it 's  you,  Miss  King,  is  it  ?  Brought 
home  the  things,  I  s'pose.  Step  in  here,  and 
I  '11  see  that  they  're  all  right,  and  pay  you 
at  once." 

She  came  into  the  parlor,  followed  by  the 
pretty  young  woman,  who  opened  the  bundle 
she  carried,  and  began  counting  the  linen  and 
socks  it  contained. 

"  All  right,  Miss  King.     How  much  do  you 


80  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

make  it  ?  Stop  a  bit ;  I  '11  fetch  the  money 
from  the  kitchen  and  be  with  you  directly." 

She  bounced  out,  and  Miss  King  looked  to- 
wards us.  Then  she  said  in  her  gentle  voice, 

"  What 's  the  matter,  dear  ?  What  have 
you  been  crying  for  ?  I  see  you  've  been 
crying.  What  about  ?  " 

"Peep's  head  aches  badly,  and  I'm  afraid 
he  's  ill.  His  cheeks  are  so  hot  and  red,  and 
his  eyes  glittered  so  when  they  were  open, 
and  now  he  keeps  'em  shut,  and  looks  so 
lumpish  and  still." 

Miss  King  came  softly  across  the  room,  and 
knelt  down  close  beside  us. 

"  The  poor  little  fellow  is  ill,"  she  said, 
quietly.  "  But  don't  you  cry,  dear ;  it  will 
only  disturb  him,  and  you  would  n't  like  to 
do  that,  would  you  ?  He  ought  to  be  in 
bed.  The  servant  had  better  carry  him  at 
once  to  bed." 

"  I  'm  afraid  Sal  won't  like  to  do  that.  She 
don't  like  trouble,  and  I  always  do  everything 
for  Peep  myself." 

"  But  you  can't  carry  him  up  to  bed,  and  he 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AXD    I.  81 

is  not  able  to  walk  himself.     Stay ;  if  you  '11 
show  me  the  way,  I  '11  carry  him  for  you." 

Miss  King  lifted  Peep  up  in  her  arms,  — 
so  gently  that  he  did  n't  awake,  —  and  I  led 
the  way  upstairs.  She  laid  him  on  the  bed, 
and  put  the  coverlets  lightly  round  him,  and 
placed  the  pillows  comfortably  under  his 
head ;  and  as  I  watched  her  doing  so,  it  came 
into  my  head,  "  This  is  the  way  God  helps  us. 
I  did  n't  expect  to  have  Miss  King,  but  he 
sent  her  to  me." 

When  she  had  arranged  Peep,  she  turned 
to  me  and  said,  — 

"  Now  you  will  have  to  be  his  little  nurse  ; 
and  when  you  feel  inclined  to  cry,  think  of 
what  you  can  do  for  your  patient,  —  your 
little  brother,  I  mean, —  and  you'll  find  it'll 
help  you  not  to  cry.*  I  would  come  myself 
and  nurse  him  for  you ;  but  mother  is  so  ill 
I  cannot  leave  her  long  together.  Besides, 
it  will  be  good  for  you  to  learn  to  nurse  him, 
it  will  keep  you  from  fretting  better  than 
anything  else  could.  Do  you  understand  me, 
dear?" 

6 


82  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

She  leaned  down  and  gave  me  a  kiss.  It 
was  the  first  kiss  I  had  had  from  anybody 
for  so  long  a  time,  and  her  voice  was  so 
sweet,  and  her  eyes  were  so  gentle,  as  she 
stooped  towards  me,  that  I  felt  dreadfully 
inclined  to  cry  again  ;  but  I  would  n't  let 
myself  do  it  after  what  she  had  said,  so  I  only 
nodded. 

"  Well,  then,  dear,  listen  to  me,  and  I  '11 
tell  you  what  you  must  do  to  nurse  little 
brother  and  make  him  get  well  soon.  You 
must  coax  the  servant — Sal,  I  think  you 
called  her  —  to  make  you  some  apple-tea  or 
some  toast-and-water,  and  you  must  give 
some  to  your  brother  every  time  he  says  he 's 
thirsty,  and  even  when  he  doesn't  say  so,  as 
often  as  you  can.  And  before  I  go  home  I 
will  get  you  something  to  give  him  besides, 
which  will  do  him  good." 

"I'm  afraid  Sal  won't  like  any  trouble; 
and  I  shall  be  afraid  to  ask  her." 

"  No,  dear,  you  won't  be  afraid,  I  know, 
if  it  is  to  help  your  brother  to  get  well. 
Come  downstairs  now,  for  I  must  hurry  home 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  83 

as  fast  as  I  can,  after  bringing  you  the  some- 
thing to  give  him  which  I  promised." 

Miss  King  and  I  went  down  into  the  parlor 
just  as  Sal  bounced  up  the  kitchen-stairs, 
saying,  — 

"  That  dratted  butcher-boy  kept  me  so 
long  waiting.  But  here's  your  money,  Miss 
King.  How  much  did  you  say  it  comes  to  ?  " 

Miss  King  told  her,  and  then  said,  — 

"The  little  boy  has  a  bad,  feverish  cold, 
and  he  ought  to  have  plenty  of  cooling  drinks. 
I  will  bring  him  some  medicine  from  the 
chemist's,  and  will  be  back  directly  with  it, 
before  I  return  home.  I  dare  say  you  will 
be  so  good  as  to  make  some  apple-tea  or 
some  toast-and-water  for  him,  and  his  little 
sister  will  give  it  to  him." 

Sal  muttered  something  about  having 
enough  to  do  without  making  a  parcel  o' 
slops  for  sick  children  ;  but  somehow  Miss 
King's  quiet  decided  manner,  taking  for 
granted  Sal  would  do  what  was  needed,  made 
her  not  say  she  would  n't. 

When  Miss  King  was  gone,  and   Sal  had 


84  UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I. 

bounced  off  to  her  kitchen,  I  ran  upstairs  to 
Peep.  He  was  still  asleep ;  so  I  sat  by  the 
bedside,  watching  him  and  noticing  how 
quickly  and  pantingly  he  breathed.  Then 
I  slipped  down  on  my  knees  and  begged  God 
to  make  him  well,  and  thanked  God  for 
sending  Miss  King  to  help  us,  and  asked 
God  to  let  me  keep  from  crying,  that  I  might 
be  a  good  nurse  to  Peep. 

It  was  not  long  before  I  heard  the  door-bell 
ring  again,  and  Miss  King  came  upstairs  with 
a  small  packet  in  her  hand.  She  opened  it 
and  showed  me  some  tiny  folded  papers  inside, 
one  of  which  she  also  -  opened,  and  I  saw  a 
little  powder  in  it.  Then  she  took  from  her 
pocket  a  screw  of  paper  and  a  white  spoon, 
so  clean  and  so  pretty -looking,  and  she 
said,  — 

"  I  've  brought  this  nice  bone  spoon  for  my 
clever  little  nurse,  that  she  may  always  keep 
it  by  her,  ready  for  putting  one  of  these 
powders  into  it  for  her  brother.  See  here  ; 
watch  me,  and  you  '11  know  how  to  do  as 
I  do." 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  85 

-» 

She  unscrewed  the  little  screw  of  paper 
that  had  some  powdered  sugar  in  it;  put 
some  into  the  white  spoon,  and  then  gently 
shook  the  powder  from  the  small  folded  paper 
on  to  the  sugar.  Then  she  propped  ftep 
a  little  higher  on  his  pillow,  which  half 
awaked  him,  and  then  she  put  the  spoon 
softly  between  his  lips,  and  he  swallowed 
what  was  in  it. 

"I'm  so  thirsty,"  he  said,  in  a  weak  voice. 

Miss  King  was  stepping  lightly  across  the 
room  to  the  water-bottle  on  the  washing- 
stand,  when  in  bounced  Sal  with  a  glass  of 
toast-and-water  in  her  hand,  which  she  gave 
to  her,  saying, —  • 

"  I  've  put  some  apple-tea  on  to  make,  but 
it  takes  time,  so  you  must  wait  for  that." 

"  This  toast-and-water  will  do  capitally  in 
the  mean  while,  Sal,  and  thank  you  for  mak- 
ing it  so  quickly,  and  so  nice  and  clear," 
said  Miss  King's  sweet  voice. 

Sal  bounced  out  again  with  a  grump, 
and  Miss  King  held  the  toast-and-water  to 
Peep's  parched  lips.  He  drank  a  good  long 


86  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

draught,  and  then  lay  back  on  the  pillow 
again. 

"  If  you  have  n't  strength  to  lift  him  up 
by  yourself,  dear,  when  you  give  him  drink, 
don't  take  that  large  glass  in  your  hand,  but 
just  dip  the  spoon  into  the  toast-and- water 
or  the  apple-tea,  when  Sal  brings  it  up,  and 
give  him  a  spoonful  at  a  time,  as  often  as  he 
wishes  for  some.  You  will  know  when  to 
give  him  the  powders  by  listening  for  the 
kitchen-clock,  which  you  can  hear  where  we 
are.  Hark  !  there  it  is  !  listen  !  And  every 
time  it  strikes  give  him  one  of  the  powders 
as  you  saw  me  give  it  to  him.  Do  you 
understand,  my  dear  ?  " 

There  was  something  in  her  face,  as  she 
looked  at  me  and  leaned  down  towards  me, 
that  made  me  feel  she  would  n't  mind  my 
giving  her  a  kiss  of  my  own  accord ;  so  I  put 
up  my  mouth  to  hers,  and  flung  my  arms 
round  her  neck,  as  I  answered,  — 

"  Yes,  thank  you  !  oh,  thank  you ! " 

She  kissed  me  heartily  in  return,  and 
said,  — 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  87 

"  You  're  a  loving,  grateful  little  soul ; 
and  such  a  mite  as  you  are,  too  !  How  old 
are  you  ?  " 

"  I  don't  quite  know ;  but  I  think  I  'm  a 
little  past  eight." 

"  And  such  a  good  little  nurse  as  you  are 
going  to  be.  I  'm  sorry  to  have  to  leave 
you ;  but  I  must  go  now.  I  've  been  so  long 
away  from  poor  mother.  Good-by,  dear ! 
I  shall  come  to-morrow  morning  and  see  how 
your  brother  is  going  on  as  early  as  I  pos- 
sibly can.  Good-by  again,  dear." 

She  nodded  cheerfully  at  me,  and  ran 
quickly  but  very  softly  downstairs  and  out 
of  the  house. 

I  found  so  much  to  do  in  putting  the  pow- 
ders side  by  side,  and  the  paper  of  sugar  near 
them,  and  laying  the  white  spoon  ready  at 
hand,  thinking  how  nice  and  clean  it  looked, 
and  how  glad  I  was  to  have  it,  instead  of 
being  obliged  to  ask  Sal  for  a  silver  one  to 
keep  upstairs,  that  by  the  time  she  brought 
the  apple-tea  I  felt  not  at  all  inclined  to  cry, 
but  quite  bright  and  brisk. 


88  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

"  To  see  the  old-fashioned  ways  of  that 
chit,"  muttered  Sal  as  she  set  the  jug  down 
and  looked  at  the  powders  and  all  the  rest 
spread  out  neatly  on  the  table.  "  It 's  like 
playing  with  dolls'  things,  that  it  is !  That 
she  should  have  the  sense  to  make  a  game 
out  of  nursing  her  brother !  Only  think  ! 
It  beats  all  I  ever  see  or  heard  on ;  that  it 
does." 

I  gave  Peep  a  little  of  the  apple-tea  in  the 
way  Miss  King  had  told  me  how,  Sal  stand- 
ing by  and  watching  me  all  the  while,  with 
a  sort  of  half-cross  laugh. 

"  One  'd  think  you  'd  ha'  been  a  hospital 
nuss  all  your  bit  of  a  life,  that  one  would  !  I 
s'pose  now  you  'd  like  to  have  some  nice 
smooth  water-grool  for  him  instead  of  dinner 
to-day,  as  he  won't  be  very  sharp-set  for 
meat,  or  even  pudd'n',  if  he  's  really  ill ; 
should  n't  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  what  a  good  thought,  Sal !  Thank 
you !  Oh,  yes,  I  should,  very  much." 

"  Then  I  '11  make  you  some,  for  the  sake 
o'  the  fun ;  you  are  such  a  queer,  old-fash- 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND  I.  89 

ioned  child ;  I  never  saw  the  likes  of  yon, 
not  I." 

Peep  had  fallen  into  a  sound  sleep,  and 
his  cheeks  looked  much  less  red  and  felt  less 
hot  by  the  time  I  heard  Uncle  and  Tom  come 
home ;  so  I  went  down  to  dinner  with  them, 
not  much  minding  having  to  leave  the  bed- 
room. 

"  Where  's  Peep  ?  "  said  Uncle,  as  I  came 
into  the  parlor. 

"  He  's  not  well,  Uncle,  and  can't  come 
downstairs.  But  he  don't  want  any  dinner, 
and  Sal  has  made  me  some  gruel  for  him, 
which  is  much  better." 

"All  right ;  but  if  he  gets  worse  he  '11  want 
a  doctor,  and  if  he  does,  let  me  know,  and 
I  '11  send  for  one." 

"  Oh,  I  hope  he  won't  get  worse,  Uncle  ; 
and  even  if  he  does,  I  'm  sure  he  won't  want 
a  doctor,  for  he  don't  like  'em.  When  a  doc- 
tor once  came  to  see  him,  he  kicked  and 
screamed,  and  said  he  couldn't  bear  doctors 
because  he  knew  they  would  make  him  take 
physic." 


90  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

Uncle  laughed  a  loud  laugh,  and  so  did 
Tom.  Then  they  began  to  talk  together, 
and  I,  longing  to  be  off  to  my  nursing,  ate 
my  dinner  as  quickly  as  I  could  and  slid  off 
my  chair  the  moment  it  was  finished ;  then, 
bidding  Uncle  and  Tom  good-night,  I  ran 
upstairs. 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  91 


CHAPTER  VII. 


the  house  next  morning,  and  Tom 
soon  after  also,  than  there  came  a 
ring  at  the  door-bell,  and  Miss 
King,  with  her  soft  quick  step,  ran  upstairs 
to  me,  and  asked  how  Peep  had  passed  the 
night. 

"  Very  well  indeed.  He  slept  a  good  deal, 
and  only  asked  twice  for  something  to  drink. 
So  I  gave  him  both  times  some  apple-tea,  as 
he  seems  to  like  that  better  than  toast-and- 
water ;  and  both  times  I  gave  him  a  powder." 

"  Well  done,  my  little  nurse  !  And  his 
hands  are  nice  and  moist  this  morning,  and 
his  forehead  too,  —  not  dry  and  hot  and  fev- 
erish, as  they  were  yesterday.  So  between 
us,  I  think  we  shall  have  him  soon  well 
again.  Go  on  as  you  did  before  ;  only  in- 


92  UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I. 

stead  of  every  time  you  hear  the  clock  strike, 
give  him  one  of  the  powders  every  other  time 
you  hear  it  strike.  You  understand  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Miss  King,  quite.  And  how  good  of 
you  to  leave  your  mother  so  early  to  come 
and  see  about  Peep !  Is  she  better  ?  Did  she 
have  a  good  night,  as  he  did  ?  " 

"  Not  so  bad  a  night  as  she  has  sometimes  ; 
she  slept  a  little  towards  morning,  and  has 
less  pain  than  she  has  generally.  Poor,  poor 
mother  !  And  she  's  so  good  and  patient." 

I  saw  Miss  King's  eyes  fill  with  tears  ;  but 
I  could  see  that  she  kept  them  back,  and 
wouldn't  cry. 

"  Is  she  very,  very  ill  ?  "  I  asked,  in  a  low 
voice. 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  very,  very  ill.  I  fear  she 
can  never  recover.  I  fear  I  must  lose  her." 

Miss  King  held  her  hands  very  tightly  to- 
gether, and  spoke  in  as  low  a  tone  as  I  did. 

"  Lose  her  ?  How  do  you  mean  ?  Do  you 
mean  she  '11  not  be  found  some  day  when  you 
go  home  ?  £an  she  get  out  of  bed  and  get 
away  ?  " 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  93 

"  No,  dear ;  I  mean,  I  fear  she  will  be  lost 
to  me ;  that  God  will  take  her,  and  that  she 
will  go  to  heaven.'1 

"  Ah,  yes,  as  my  mother  went  and  my  fa- 
ther went — to  heaven.  And  when  people  go 
there,  I  know  they  never  come  back.  Oh.  I 
am  sorry  for  you,  Miss  King ;  I  am  sorry  for 
you.  But  1 11  try  not  to  cry,  and  I  see 
you  're  trying  not  to  cry ;  because  we  know 
it 's  bad  for  Peep  and  for  your  mother,  now 
that  we  have  to  nurse  them,  don't  we  ?  " 

Miss  King  stooped  down  and  gave  me  a 
kiss,  which  I  returned  with  all  my  heart ;  and 
after  telling  me  a  few  things  more  that  I  could 
do  for  Peep,  she  ran  away  downstairs,  and  I 
heard  the  house-door  shut  quietly  after  her. 

Peep,  as  Miss  King  said  he  would,  soon  got 
quite  well,  and  he  then  ate  as  heartily  as 
ever;  and  Tom  heaped  his  plate,  and  mine 
too,  with  good  things  at  every  meal,  when 
Uncle  was  too  busy  behind  his  newspaper  to 
notice  that  our  plates  were  empty.  Indeed, 
Tom  grew  very  kind  to  us  for  some  time  after 
Peep  had  been  ill ;  but  by  degrees  I  thought 


94  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

I  saw  that  Tom  became  what  he  was  at  first, 
and  even  more  cross  and  bluff  than  ever. 

One  day,  when  it  was  getting  towards  the 
time  that  Tom's  holidays  were  coming  to  an 
end,  and  I  heard  that  he  was  soon  going  back 
to  school,  Peep  was  playing  happily  with  his 
wheelbarrow  at  a  little  distance  from  the 
garden-seat  on  which  I  was  sitting  making  a 
little  case  for  my  shell  with  the  bit  of  redr 
worked  muslin  given  to  me  by  the  smiling 
young  shopwoman,  and  Tom  was  leaning 
with  his  head  on  his  arm  upon  the  back  of 
the  long  garden-seat  at  the  end  farthest  away 
from  me.  He  was  very  silent ;  and  as  much 
as  I  could  see  of  his  face  looked  very  frown- 
ing and  red  and  hot,  though  it  was  a  cold 
day,  and  Tom  had  been  quite  still  for  a  long 
time. 

"  Are  you  ill,  Tom  ?  Do  }^ou  think  you  've 
got  a  feverish  cold,  as  Peep  had  ?  " 

"  No.  What  makes  you  think  I  'm  ill, 
Bab  ?  Don't  notice  me.  What  do  you  care 
if  I  've  anything  the  matter  with  me  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  care  a  great  deal,  Tom.     And  I 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  95 

think  you  may  be  ill,  because  you  have  hot 
red  cheeks,  as  Peep  had  when  he  was  ill." 

"  111  ?  No,  not  I.  Don't  notice  me,  Bab,  I 
tell  you." 

"  But  I  must  notice  you,  Tom ;  because  if 
you  're  ill,  you  must  be  nursed,  and  I  would 
nurse  you." 

"  You,  Bab  ?    Nonsense  !  " 

"  Oh,  but  I  can  nurse,  and  very  well,  too, 
though  I'm  so  little.  I  nursed  Peep  capi- 
tally ;  Miss  King  said  so." 

Tom  turned  upon  me  fiercely,  and  said,  in 
a  rough  loud  voice,  — 

"  Who  ?  " 

"  Miss  King.  She  taught  me  how  to  nurse, 
and  came  to  see  how  Peep  got  on  while  I 
nursed  him." 

"  She  came  here,  did  she  ?  How  came  I 
not  to  know  she  did  ?  I  'd  soon  have  made 
the  house  too  hot  to  hold  her,  and  have  sent 
her  to  the  right-about  pretty  quick,  I  can  tell 
you." 

"  What  makes  you  angry  with  Miss  King, 
Tom  ?  Don't  you  like  her  ?  " 


96  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

"  Like  her  ?     I  hate  her  ! " 

«  Why,  Tom  ?  " 

"  Because  —  because  —  Oh,  you  would  n't 
understand  why  I  hate  her !  How  should 
you  ?  Such  a  young  chit  as  you,  how  could 
you  understand  what  makes  me  hate  her, 
even  if  I  were  to  tell  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  but  do  tell  me,  Tom ;  try  to  make  me 
understand.  I  want  to  make  out  why  you 
should  hate  Miss  King,  who  has  been  so  good 
and  kind  to  me,  and  who  seems  to  me  to  be 
just  what  I  could  love  so  very  much.  And  I 
do  love  her  already ;  I  feel  I  do." 

"  Love  her  ?  Love  Miss  King  ?  That  you 
would  n't  if  you  knew  what  I  know  about 
her.  You'd  hate  her,  as  I  do.  I've  only 
lately  found  it  out;  but  it  makes  me  detest 
her." 

"  What  is  it,  Tom  ?  Are  you  sure  it 's 
true?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  it 's  too  true ;  those  who  told  it 
me  see  proofs  of  it  every  day." 

"  But  what  is  it,  Tom  ?  " 

"  Why,  it 's   just   this,  and   nothing   else : 


UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND   I.  97 

she  's  trying  to  get  father  for  a  husband.  He 
goes  every  day  to  see  her,  and  wants  her  to 
marry  him." 

"  That  seems  as  if  he 's  trying  to  get  her  for 
a  wife  ;  and  that  would  be  very  nice,  Tom." 

"  Nice,  Bab  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  because  then  she  'd  come  and  live 
here,  and  I  should  be  very  glad,  for  I  love 
her  already ;  I  told  you  so." 

"  But  I  don't :  I  hate  her.  I  hate  step- 
mothers, and  I  won't  have  her  for  one." 

"  Can  you  help  it,  Torn  ?  Why  should  n't 
you  like  to  have  her  for  a  step-mother  ?  " 

"  Because  all  step-mothers  are  hateful  and 
horrible  ;  and  if  she  were  to  come  here  as  my 
step-mother,  I  'd  make  her  repent  it ;  I  'd  do 
all  I  could  to  make  her  life  miserable." 

"  Then  it  would  be  you,  Tom,  who  would 
be  hateful  and  horrible,  not  she." 

"  There,  Bab  !  I  told  you  you  would  n't 
be  able  to  understand.  Step-mothers  are 
always  disagreeable;  everybody  says  so." 

"But  I  don't  think,  —  I  cant  think  she 
would  be.  Oh,  Tom,  you  don't  know  how 

7 


98  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

gentle  and  sweet-voiced  and  kind  Miss  King 
is!" 

"  Don't  call  her  l  Miss  King '  to  me,  Bab  ! 
I  never  call  her  so ;  I  call  her  Pen  Prim. 
I  've  heard  of  her  soft,  silky  ways,  and  I  call 
her  Pen  Prim,  and  I  shall  never  call  her  any- 
thing else.  And  if  you  care  anything  for 
me,  you  '11  call  her  Pen  Prim,  too,  Bab,  to 
please  me." 

"  Why  do  you  call  her  <  Pen,'  Tom  ?  " 
"  Because  her  name  's   Penelope ;    and   as 
sure  as  my  name  's  Tom,  I  '11  never  call  her 
anything  but  Pen  Prim." 

"  Perhaps  you  '11  have  to  call  her  step- 
mother, Tom." 

"  That  I  won't  if  I  can  help  it." 
"  But  if  you  can't  help  it,  Tom  ?  " 
"  How  aggravating  you  are,  Bab  !     No,  I 
never  will  call  her  so.     If  father  will   have 
her,  —  and  when  he 's  bent  on  a  thing  he 
generally   has   his   way,  —  if  he  will  marry 
her,  and  if  I  can't  help  myself  in  that,  at 
least  I'll  never  call  her  anything  but   Pen 
Prim  to  the  end  of  her  days ;  and  I  '11  not 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  99 

make  her  married  life  too  pleasant  to  her,  if 
she  does  succeed  in  getting  father  for  a  hus- 
band and  comes  to  live  here.  And  if  you  care 
for  me  at  all,  Bab,  you'll  promise  to  worry 
her  just  as  much  when  I  'm  away  at  school  as 
I  should  if  I  were  always  at  home.  Come, 
promise  me  you  will." 

"  I  can't  promise  that,  Tom." 

"  Then  you  don't  care  for  me,  Bab." 

"  Yes,  I  do,  Tom.  You  are  not  so  bluff 
and  gruff  to  Peep  and  me  now  as  you  were 
at  first,  therefore  I  like  you  now  very  much." 

"  You  do,  Bab  ?  Well,  then,  show  that  you 
like  me,  by  calling  her  Pen  Prim,  and  by 
being  as  rude  as  ever  you  can  to  her  when- 
ever she  comes  here." 

"  No,  Tom,  not  even  to  please  you,  will  I 
promise  that.  She  has  been  very  good  to 
Peep  and  to  me  when  he  was  ill ;  and  I  know 
I  could  n't  be  rude  to  her,  even  if  I  tried." 

"  But  will  you  try  ?  " 

"No,  Tom,  I  won't  even  try." 

"  Then  you  don't  care  for  me,  and  only 
pretend  to  like  me,  Bab." 


100  UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND    I. 

I  could  n't  answer  any  more  ;  and  Tom  got 
up  from  the  garden-seat  and  flung  away  in  a 
huff,  saying,  — 

"  See  if  I  forgive  you,  Miss  Bab  !  " 

And  he  didn't  forgive  me;  for  whenever 
he  spoke  to  me  he  called  me  "Miss  Bab." 
But  he  hardly  ever  did  speak  to  me  at  all,  till 
at  last  the  morning  came  when  he  was  going 
back  to  school,  and  I  felt  I  could  n't  bear  he 
should  not  make  it  up  with  me  before  he 
went.  So  after  watching  him  all  through 
breakfast,  and  seeing  he  looked  sulky  and 
cross  still,  and  kept  his  face  turned  from  my 
side  of  the  table,  I  crept  round  near  to  him 
and  said  in  a  low  voice,  so  that  nobody  should 
hear,  — 

"  Do  say  you  forgive  me,  Tom,  before  you 
go  !  You  '11  be  such  a  long  time  away,  and  I 
don't  like  you  to  keep  angry  with  me  all  that 
while." 

"  You  can  be  forgiven,  you  know,  Miss 
Bab,  directly ;  you  've  only  to  promise  me 
to  do  what  I  told  you." 

"  But  I  can't  promise,  Tom." 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  101 

"  Then  I  can't  forgive  yon,  and  I  sha'n't 
either.  Don't  you  think  it,  Miss  Bab.  You 
need  n't  look  up  at  me  in  that  pitiful  way ; 
you  've  only  to  do  as  I  tell  you,  and  then 
I  '11  shake  hands  with  you  before  I  go.  If 
not,  I  won't.  See  if  I  do  ! " 

He  kept  his  word.  Even  when  the  hack- 
ney-coach came  to  the  gate,  and  his  box  was 
put  in,  and  I  stood  waiting  with  the  rest, 
hoping  he  would  shake  hands  with  me  at 
the  very  last  moment,  he  jumped  in  without 
even  looking  at  me,  though  I  was  trembling 
and  shaking  all  over,  and  could  n't  keep  the 
tears  from  rolling  down  my  face.  Peep 
wasn't  ill,  so  I  could  cry  without  fear  of 
doing  him  any  harm ;  and  I  did  cry  very 
sorrowfully  and  long. 

"  Why,  who  'd  ha'  thought  you  cared  so 
much  for  Master  Tom  as  to  cry  'cause  he  's 
going  back  to  school,"  said  Sal,  sharply. 
"  I  fancied  you  were  no  such  great  friends 
as  that  comes  to  while  he  was  here." 

I  didn't  answer  Sal;  but  when  she  was 
gone  down  to  her  kitchen,  and  Peep  noticed 


102  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND  I. 

my  red  eyes,  asking  what  had  made  me  cry, 
I  burst  out  afresh,  and  said,  — 

"  Oh,  Peep !  Tom  did  n't  shake  hands  with 
me  before  he  went ;  he  did  n't  even  say, 
<  Good-by,  Bab  ' !  " 

"  Well,  it  don't  signify,  Bab  ;  he 's  almost 
always  bluff  and  surly,  and  don't  care  for  us 
much,  you  know.  Why  should  he  ?  I  'm 
sure  I  don't  care  much  for  him ;  I  like  Ned 
Carter  fifty  times  better  than  I  do  Tom. 
Ned  's  always  good-tempered  and  willing  to 
play  with  me,  while  Tom  only  wants  to  be 
master." 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  103 


CHAPTEK  VIH. 

EXT  day,  just  as  Uncle  had  his  hat 
on,  ready  to  go  out,  Sal  bounced 
into  the  parlor,  saying  in  quite 
a  screaming  voice,  — 
"  I  've  heard  something,  Cap'n,  that  makes 
me  in  such  a  way  I  can't  a-bear  myself!  And 
I  must  have  a  few  words  with  you  at  once, 
Cap'n,  to  settle  my  mind  whether  it 's  true 
or  not.  They  're  a-sayin'  in  the  village  that 
you  're  a-thinkin'  o'  gett'n'  married ;  and  if 
you  are,  I  must  tell  you  plain  I  'in  not  a-goin' 
to  stay  here  with  a  new  missus  over  me. 
That  I  could  not  stand  !  " 

"  My  good  girl  —  "  Uncle  began. 
"  Don't  (  good  gal '  me,   Cap'n ;    I  'm  not 
a-going  to  stand  havin'  a  missus  here,  —  no, 
not  to  please  even  you,  Cap'n." 
"But,  Sal  — " 


104  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

"  No,  Cap'n  Bruff,  sir,  I  could  n't  hear  of 
stay  in',  much  as  I  like  my  place.  If  a 
missus  is  to  come  to  this  house,  I  'd  leave 
at  once,  and  I  'd  give  you  warnin'  on  the 
spot." 

"  But,  Sal,  consider  —  " 

"  Don't  think  it  for  a  rninnit,  Cap'n ;  I 
could  n't,  and  what 's  more  I  would  n't ;  so 
you  can  think  it  over,  sir." 

Sal  bounced  off,  banging  the  door  behind 
her,  and  Uncle  stood  looking  at  the  fire,  with 
his  hat  still  upon  his  head,  but  not  going  out. 

I  crept  near  to  him,  hoping  he  would 
notice  me ;  but  as  he  did  n't,  I  put  up  my 
hand  very  gently  and  touched  him  on  his 
thick  coat-sleeve.  He  did  n't  feel  me  at  first, 
but  when  I  said  softly,  "  Uncle  !  "  he  looked 
down  at  me,  and  said,  — 

"Well,  Bab,  what  is  it?" 

"  Do  you  want  very  much  to  be  married, 
Uncle?" 

Uncle  got  very  red  j  then  he  laughed,  and 
said, — 

"  Why  do  you  want  to  know,  Bab  ?  " 


UNCLE,   PEEP,    AND   I.  105 

" Because,  Uncle,  if  you  do,  you  needn't 
mind  Sal's  saying  she  '11  go,  need  you  ?  " 

"  Well,  Bab,  it  '11  be  very  inconvenient 
having  no  servant  to  keep  things  going  here 
a  little  tidily.  And  Sal 's  accustomed  to  my 
ways,  and  knows  how  1  like  to  have  'ein 
done ;  and  if  she  leaves  me  all  of  a  hurry, 
I  should  n't  be  able  to  get  on  till  I  bring 
home  a  wife  to  set  things  straight  for  good 
and  all.  And  I  should  like  to  have  the  place 
neat  and  tidy  before  she  comes  here,  you  see, 
Bab." 

"  I  don't  think  Sal  is  very  neat  and  tidy, 
Uncle  ;  is  she  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,  Bab  ;  perhaps  not ; 
but  I  'm  used  to  her,  you  see,  and  that 's  the 
fact.  Besides,  I  don't  know  how  I  could 
manage  to  get  anybody  else  in  her  place,  if 
she  left  me  suddenly.  You  heard  her  say 
she  'd  give  me  warning  at  once." 

"  Let  her,  Uncle." 

"  Ah,  yes ;  but,  Bab,  what  should  we  do 
without  her?" 

«  Very  well,  Uncle." 


106  UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I. 

"  Not  very  well,  Bab  ;  the  place  would  be 
all  sixes  and  sevens,  without  somebody  to 
clean  up,  and  cook,  and  make  beds,  and  all 
the  rest  of  it." 

"  But  we  could  get  somebody  instead  of 
Sal,  Uncle." 

"  Could  we,  Bab,  do  you  think  ?  Could 
we  get  any  one  to  come  at  once,  if  Sal  gave 
us  warning  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Uncle,  I  'm  sure  we  could.  I  think 
I  know  somebody  who  'd  be  quite  glad  to 
come  and  be  servant  here  directly." 

"  Bab,  my  little  woman,  I  always  said  you 
were  the  very  rummest  child  I  ever  knew  for 
your  age  ;  and  here  you  are,  making  me  feel 
as  if  you  were  quite  a  comfort  and  a  clever 
little  housekeeper,  a  wise  grown-up  person 
to  consult  with,  and  to  help  me  at  a  pinch. 
Well,  what  about  this  servant- girl  you  think 
would  be  glad  to  come  to  us  ?  " 

"  Why,  Uncle,  I  heard  Ned  Carter  say  the 
other  day  that  his  sister  Sue  wanted  to  get 
a  new  place,  for  the  one  she  has  just  left  was 
a  very  hard  one,  and  they  were  very  cruel 


UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND    I.  107 

to  her ;  and  he  says  he  would  be  glad  to  have 
her  where  they'd  be  kind  to  her  and  not 
work  her  too  hard.  And  here  she  'd  have  an 
easy  place  and  be  quite  happy,  you  know, 
Uncle." 

"  So  she  would,  Bab ;  with  such  a  little 
mistress  as  you  at  first,  and  with  such  a  mis- 
tress as  —  Well,  I  must  n't  stay  any  longer, 
I  must  be  off  to  town ;  so  good-by,  Bab." 
And  Uncle  suddenly  hurried  away. 

Luckily  this  was  one  of  Ned  Carter's  days 
for  coming  to  do  some  gardening  ;  so  I  went 
to  him  the  moment  he  entered  the  gate,  and 
said, — 

"  Did  n't  you  say  your  sister  Sue  wants  a 
place,  Ned?" 

"  Yes,  little  miss,  she  do." 

"  Don't  you  think  she  'd  like  to  come  here, 
Ned?" 

"  Like,  little  miss !  She  'd  be  ready  to  fly 
out  of  her  skin  wi'  joy,  if  she  could  get  this 
place !  But  then  there  's  Sal ;  mayhap  she 
wouldn't  like  it  at  all." 

"Never  mind   Sal,   Ned.     You   tell   your 


108  UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND    I. 

sister  to  come  up  first  thing  to-morrow 
morning,  before  Uncle  is  off  to  town,  and 
he  '11  speak  to  her  about  coming  here." 

"  Lord  love  you,  miss,  to  be  sure  I  will. 
Sue  '11  be  ready  to  jump  out  of  her  skin,  that 
she  will." 

When  Uncle  came  home  that  evening,  and 
had  finished  dinner  and  was  sitting  over  the 
fire,  he  called  me  over  to  him,  away  from 
Peep,  who  remained  at  table,  very  busy  play- 
ing at  boats  with  some  large  walnut-shells 
that  he  had  saved  from  dessert. 

"  Well,  little  woman,  let 's  hear  what  you  've 
done  about  another  servant-girl.  Ned  was 
here  to-day ;  did  you  speak  to  him  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Uncle ;  and  I  told  him  to  tell  Sue 
to  step  up  and  speak  with  you  to-morrow  morn- 
ing about  coming  here  at  once.  He  says  she  '11 
jump  out  of  her  skin  to  get  such  a  place." 

"  Upon  my  word,  Bab,  you  're  a  capital 
manager  already.  But  you  women,  if  you  're 
ever  so  young,  seem  to  be  good  at  managing 
a  house  a  sight  better  than  us  men,  if  we  're 
ever  so  old." 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  109 

Uncle  fell  into  his  usual  habit  of  staring 
at  the  fire  and  saying  nothing  for  a  long 
while.  At  last  he  seemed  to  wake  up,  and 
said, — 

«  Ring  the  bell,  Bab  !  " 

I  did  so ;  and  Sal  bounced  into  the  room 
with,  — 

"Well,  Cap'n?" 

"  This  morning,  Sal,  you  threatened  to  give 
me    warning.      Now   I    give    you    warning 
There 's   a   month's   wages   besides   what    is 
owing  to  you  up  to  to-night ;  and  to-morrow 
you  go." 

"  Cap'n  !  " 

"  To-morrow  you  go  !  " 

"  Well,  I  never  !  Sent  off  at  a  word  in  this 
way !  " 

"  You  threatened  to  go  off  at  a  word,  and 
without  caring  whether  it  put  me  to  an  incon- 
venience or  not;  so  to-morrow  you  go." 

"And  pretty  early,  too;  you  see  if  I  don't, 
Cap'n !  I  '11  just  make  your  breakfast  for 
you,  and  after  that  I  shall  pack  up  my  alls 
and  be  gone,  and  you  may  shift  how  you  can 


110  UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND   I. 

for  your  dinner.  If  you  were  starving  for  it, 
I  would  n't  cook  it ;  and  I  '11  never  set  foot 
in  this  house  again  ;  there  !  " 

"Mind  you  never  do,"  said  Uncle,  as  Sal 
bounced  out  of  the  room. 

"  A  good  riddance  of  bad  rubbish,"  I  heard 
him  mutter.  Then  he  turned  to  me  and 
said,  — 

"  You  clever  little  woman,  you  got  rid  of 
her  for  me.  What  would  you  like  me  to 
bring  for  you  from  town,  Bab  ?  Would  you 
like  to  have  a  doll  ?  " 

«  Oh,  Uncle !     A  doll !  " 

"  Yes,  a  wax  doll,  —  a  big  pretty  one,  with 
baby-clothes  on." 

"  Oh,  Uncle  !     A  doll !     A  beautiful  doll !  " 

I  stopped  suddenly,  thinking  of  something. 

"  Well,  Bab,  what  is  it  ?  Is  there  anything 
you  'd  like  still  better  than  a  doll  ?  If  there 
is,  out  with  it." 

I  felt  very  odd  and  very  shy,  and  could  n't 
say  anything  for  a  moment. 

"  Well,  little  woman,  speak  up !  What 
is  it?" 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  Ill 

"  Uncle,  there  '«  one  thing  I  should  like 
even  better  than  a  doll.  I  should  like  you  to 
let  me  give  you  a  kiss,  —  a  hug.  I  've  often 
wanted  to  do  it;  but  I  —  but  you — " 

"  Of  all  the  rum  —  To  give  me  a  hug,  — 
a  rough,  big  bear  like  me  ?  Are  you  sure, 
Bab,  you  want  to  kiss  me  ?  " 

u  Very  much,  Uncle." 

"  Well,  then,  kiss  me,  little  woman." 

I  stood  on  tiptoe  and  put  both  my  arms 
round  his  neck,  and  pressed  my  lips  among 
his  -great  rough  beard  and  whiskers,  just 
where  I  found  a  little  bit  of  cheek. 

"  Thank  you,  Uncle,  for  all  you  Ve  done 
for  Peep  and  me  !  "  I  whispered. 

"  All  ?  It  ain't  much ;  and  I  have  n't  been 
able  to  take  very  good  care  of  you,  or  see 
to  you  much.  But  perhaps  soon  —  perhaps 
when  I  bring  home  a  wife,  she  '11  help  me  to 
understand  how  to  do  better  for  you." 

"  Yes,  Uncle.     Miss  King." 

Uncle  started  and  stared  at  me. 

"What  do  you  know  about  Miss  King, 
Bab  ?  " 


112  TJNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

"  She  came  here  while  Peep  was  ill,  Uncle, 
and  taught  me  how  to  nurse  him ;  and  he  got 
well  sooner  than  I  think  he  would  have  done 
if  she  had  n't  helped  me.  She  was  so  good 
and  so  gentle,  and  I  felt  so  thankful  to  her, 
that  when  I  chanced  to  hear  you  were  going 
to  marry  her,  I  thought  what  a  good  thing  it 
would  be,  for  I  loved  her  already." 

Uncle  put  his  big  arm  round  me  and  drew 
me  on  to  his  knee,  and  gave  me  such  a  kiss 
that  I  was  even  more  glad  than  when  he  let 
me  kiss  him ;  because  then  he  did  n't  seem 
much  to  care  to  have  a  kiss,  but  now  he 
seemed  to  care  very  much. 

"  You  're  right,  my  little  woman  ;  she  is 
good  and  gentle,  and  one  to  love  the  moment 
you  see  her.  You  're  right,  my  little  woman, 
my  dear,  ruin  little  Bab." 

Uncle  gave  me  a  hearty  squeeze,  and  then 
began  staring  into  the  fire  again ;  but  he 
held  me  sitting  on  his  knee,  with  his  big 
warm  arm  tight  round  me  still.  So  I  liked 
being  kept  there  ever  so  long,  without  his 
speaking  to  me  or  I  to  him.  And  after  that 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  113 

evening,  whenever  Uncle  had  anything  quiet 
to  say  to  me  or  I  to  him,  he  used  to  make 
me  sit  on  his  knee  while  he  told  it  me  or  I 
told  it  him. 

Next  morning  Sal  bounced  about  more 
than  usual,  sniffing  and  grumping,  and  set- 
ting down  the  things  on  the  breakfast-table 
with  a  bang.  But  Uncle  did  n't  take  any 
notice  of  her  or  say  a  word  to  her ;  and  she 
said  nothing  to  him,  till  she  came  up  with  her 
bonnet  and  shawl  on,  and  said,  — 

"  Well,  I  'm  going,  Cap'n,  and  it 's  to  be 
hoped  you  won't  miss  me." 

"  It's  to  be  hoped  not,  Sal." 

"See  if  you  don't,  though,  Cap'n,  when  it 
comes  to  dinner-time,  and  you  come  home 

and    find    no    vittels    on    the   table ;   that  's 

di  " 
1. 

Uncle  did  n't  answer,  so  I  said,  — 
"  Sal,  why  do  you  speak  as  if  you  were 
spiteful  against  Uncle,  when  you  've  made 
such  good  dinners  for  him  all  this  time,  and 
got  us  a  bed  ready,  and  some  night-clothes  for 
Peep  and  me  to  put  on  when  we  came  here 

8 


114  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

that  first  night  ?  Thank  you  for  that,  at  least, 
Sal;  and  good-by,  Sal." 

"  Good-by,  Sal !  "  said  Peep,  very  briskly. 

Sal  gave  a  sort  of  half  laugh,  half  snort,  as 
she  said,  — 

"  I  shall  send  for  my  box  this  arternoon  ;  " 
and  then  flounced  straight  out  of  the  room 
and  out  of  the  house. 

Not  long  after,  there  came  a  ring  at  the 
door-bell,  and  I  slipped  out  to  open  it,  and, 
as  I  expected,  there  was  Susan  Carter.  I 
brought  her  into  the  parlor,  and  said,  — 

" Uncle,  here's  Sue." 

He  asked  her  if  she  had  come  to  stay  at 
once,  and  she,  dropping  a  courtesy,  said,  — 

"  Yes,  Cap'n,  if  I  may." 

"  Yes,  my  girl,  you  may." 

Then  he  spoke  to  her  about  wages,  when 
she  dropped  another  courtesy,  and  he  said,  — 

"  My  little  missy  here  '11  tell  you  all  about 
my  ways  and  my  hours,  and  what  I  like  to 
have  for  breakfast  and  for  dinner,  and  —  and 
all  the  rest  of  it ;  won't  you,  Bab  ?  " 

«  Yes,  Uncle:" 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  115 

He  put  on  his  hat  and  went  out  at  once ; 
while  I  took  Sue  downstairs  to  the  kitchen, 
and  then  upstairs  to  the  bedrooms,  and 
showed  her  all  about  the  house.  Then  I 
said,  — 

"  The  butcher-boy  generally  comes  here 
about  eleven  o'clock,  Sue;  and  Uncle  likes 
to  have  beef  oftener  than  any  other  meat,  so 
you  can  order  some  for  to-day  to  begin  with." 

"  And  Uncle  often  has  a  pudding  or  a  pie, 
Sue,"  said  Peep. 

"  Can  you  make  puddings  and  pies,  Sue  ?  " 
I  asked. 

"  Oh,  yes,  miss;  and  very  light  crust  too." 

"  That 's  a  good  thing !  "  said  Peep.  "  You 
can  make  a  pie  or  a  pudding  every  day, 
Sue." 

"  Shall  I,  miss  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  think  you  may,  Sue." 

"  Does  the  Cap'n  like  his  meat  under-done 
or  much  done,  miss  ?  " 

"  He  generally  has  the  brown  outside  slice, 
Sue  ;  but  he  likes  the  inside  to  just  have  the 
gravy  in,  — juicy,  you  know." 


116  UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I. 

"  I  understand,  miss." 

"  And,  Sue,  you  may  sometimes  give  us 
apple  dumplings  or  pancakes,  for  a  change," 
said  Peep.  "  And,  Sue,  I  like  boiled  paste 
better  than  baked  paste,  so  you  can  give  us 
puddings  oftener  than  pies." 

«  Very  well,  sir.     Shall  I,  miss  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Sue." 

Just  then  there  came  a  loud  ring  at  the 
door-bell,  and  we  heard  shrill  whistling  out- 
side. 

"  That 's  the  butcher-boy,"  said  Peep.  "  Or- 
der  ribs  of  beef  to-day,  Sue ;  and  give  us  a 
roly-poly  pudding  afterwards.  Oh,  and  put 
plenty  of  plums  in  it,  Sue." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Sue,  as  she  flew  off  to  open 
the  door  and  give  the  butcher-boy  his  orders. 

"  Some  day,  Sue,  you  may  tell  him  to 
bring  steaks  and  kidneys,  and  you  can  make 
us  a  beefsteak  pudding,"  said  Peep,  when 
she  came  back  ;  "  and  that  day  you  can  give 
us  pancakes,  you  know." 

"  Yes,  sir.  What  time  does  the  Cap'n 
dine,  miss  ?  " 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  117 

"  Generally  about  five,  Sue  ;  but  sometimes 
he  's  a  little  later,  so  you  '11  have  to  manage 
and  keep  the  meat  hot,  ready  for  any  hour 
Uncle  comes  home." 

"  I  understand,  miss." 

"  And  he  always  breakfasts  at  nine  ;  there- 
fore it  must  be  ready  exactly  then,  because 
he  goes  out  directly  after." 

"  Yes,  miss." 

"  And,  Sue,  Uncle  likes  to  have  all  sorts 
of  things  on  the  breakfast-table,  —  sometimes 
jam,  sometimes  honey,  sometimes  marmalade, 
sometimes  buttered  toast,  sometimes  hot  rolls, 
sometimes  bloater-herring,  sometimes  eggs 
and  bacon,  sometimes  chops,  sometimes  — 
sometimes  —  oh,  I  '11  think  of  more  things 
presently  ;  but  you  may  often  have  hot  rolls, 
Sue,"  said  Peep. 

"  Very  well,  sir." 

"  And,  Sue,  be  sure  you  have  Uncle's  coat 
brushed  and  his  boots  blacked  and  brought  in 
the  first  thing,  so  that  I  may  set  them  by  the 
fender,  ready  for  him  to  put  on  before  he 
goes  out;  and  you'll  have  to  take  in  his 


118  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

paper  before  breakfast  and  bring  it  into  the 
parlor:  the  newspaper-boy  comes  round  at 
eight." 

"  Yes,  miss." 

"  And  I  '11  show  you  the  store-cupboard, 
Sue ;  where  the  tea  and  sugar  and  the  pep- 
per and  salt  and  the  raisins  and  currants 
and  spices  and  jarn-pots  are  kept;  and 
the  corner  where  the  candle-and-soap  box 
stands ;  and  the  closet  where  the  mops  and 
brooms  and  brushes  are  put;  and  I  should 
like  you  to  buy  a  few  neat  little  white  cov- 
ered jars  for  the  store-cupboard,  Sue,  so  that 
the  spices  and  the  pepper  and  the  salt  may 
be  kept  nicely,  as  mother  used  to  keep  them, 
instead  of  screwed  up  in  bits  of  paper,  as  Sal 
used  to  keep  them." 

"  I  understand,  miss." 

And  Sue  showed  that  she  did  understand ; 
for  not  long  after  she  came,  the  house  was 
swept  and  scoured  as  it  had  not  been  for 
many  a  day.  Every  room  was  like  a  new 
pin  for  neatness  and  cleanliness ;  she  kept 
everything  in  its  place  and  thoroughly  dusted  ; 


UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND   I.  119 

she  bought  new  house-cloths  and  glass-and- 
china  cloths  instead  of  the  rags  Sal  used 
and  thought  good  enough;  for  Uncle  gave 
Sue  a  good  supply  of  money  in  hand,  and 
bade  her  not  spare  in  getting  anything  the 
house  wanted.  She  not  only  kept  it  in  good 
order,  but  she  cooked  capitally ;  and  Uncle 
said  he  had  not  eaten  better  dinners  he  did 
not  know  the  time  when,  and  Peep  enjoyed 
himself  completely.  She  was  very  brisk  and 
good-tempered  too,  and  flew  about  from 
morning  till  night,  singing  at  her  work,  and 
always  ready  to  have  a  chat  with  Peep  and 
me,  or  to  do  any  little  job  we  wanted  at  any 
odd  moment.  She  was  fond  of  chatting  ;  but 
she  never  left  off  from  what  she  was  about 
while  she  chatted.  She  used  to  flit  from 
room  to  room  all  the  time  she  talked,  if  she 
were  making  the  beds  or  doing  any  house- 
work ;  so  that  Peep  and  I  had  to  follow  from 
place  to  place  as  we  listened  to  her  stories 
and  village  gossip,  of  which  she  had  an  end- 
less store.  She  seemed  to  know  everybody 
and  to  have  heard  everything ;  and  she 


120  UNCLE,   PEEP,    AND   I. 

amused  us  very  much  by  the  odd  way 
she  had  of  telling  about  the  people  living 
near. 

Peep  and  I  had  plenty  of  amusement  now, 
and  never  felt  dull,  as  we  had  sometimes  felt 
when  we  first  came  to  Uncle's  house ;  and 
besides,  he  brought  me  from  town  a  beautiful 
large  wax-doll,  dressed  in  long  clothes,  like 
a  baby,  and  with  a  pretty  baby's  cap  on  its 
head,  all  of  which  were  made  so  that  they 
could  be  taken  off  and  put  on  again ;  there- 
fore I  could  dress  and  undress  my  dolly  as 
often  as  I  pleased. 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  121 


CHAPTER  IX. 

HAD  often  wished  I  could  go  be- 
yond the  garden-gate  and  see  more 
of  what  was  outside  Uncle's  house, 
and  I  thought  it  would  be  so  pleas- 
ant and  free  if  Peep  and  I  could  do  so  by 
ourselves ;  but  as  long  as  Sal  was  there  and 
forbade  us,  we  had  never  dared  to  venture 
out.  •  Now,  however,  that  Sue  let  us  do  just 
as  we  pleased,  I  asked  Peep  if  he  would  n't 
like  to  come  for  a  walk  with  me. 

"  What  a  capital  thing,  Bab  !  Let 's  go  at 
once." 

It  was  a  fine  afternoon,  and  not  very  cold; 
but  above  the  low  light  at  the  edge  of  the 
sky  there  were  some  darkish  clouds  and 
streaks,  with  a  mistiness  between.  We  very 
much  enjoyed  our  ramble  through  the  village ; 
looking  in  at  the  shop-windows  and  into  the 


122  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

pretty  bits  of  gardens  that  were  in  front  of 
the  houses  and  cottages,  until  we  got  to  the 
end  of  the  village,  and  I  thought  of  turning 
back.  But  Peep  wanted  to  go  up  a  steepish 
hill  there  was,  as  he  said  he  should  like  to  see 
what  there  was  at  the  top ;  so  we  went  on 
and  on,  till  we  felt  rather,  tired  and  longed 
to  sit  down  and  rest.  Fortunately,  under 
some  trees  at  the  top  of  the  hill  there  was 
a  nice  wooden  seat ;  but  sitting  upon  it,  with 
her  frock  wide  spread  out  and  a  smartly 
dressed  doll  beside  her,  was  a  little  girl,  about 
my  age,  who  only  stared  at  us  when  we 
looked  longingly  at  the  seat.  It  was  long 
enough  for  us  all  to  have  sat  upon  it;  but 
the  silk  skirts  of  the  little  girl  and  those  of 
the  doll  took  up  all  the  room.  Near  to  the 
little  girl  stood  a  young  woman,  who  leaned 
her  back  against  the  tree  under  which  the 
seat  was  placed.  Seeing  that  nothing  but 
a  hard  stare  met  our  longing  looks,  Peep  and 
I  moved  closer  to  the  bench  and  tried  to  edge 
ourselves  on  to  it ;  but  the  little  girl  frowned, 
and  said  in  a  sharp  voice,  — 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  123 

"  Take  care,  you  '11  brush  against  my  doll." 

"  Then  take  it  off  the  bench ;  Bab  's  tired, 
and  wants  to  sit  down,  and  so  do  I,"  said 
Peep. 

"I  shan't." 

"  You  must ;  we  're  tired  and  want  to 
rest." 

"  What  do  I  care  ?  " 

"  You  're  a  rude  girl." 

"  I  'm  not  a  girl ;  I  'm  a  young  lady." 

"  You  're  not ;  young  ladies  don't  speak  so 
rudely.  Make  room." 

"I  shan't,  I  tell  you." 

Peep  did  n't  answer  her  any  more,  but 
stepped  forward  and  swept  the  doll  right  off 
the  seat  on  to  the  ground. 

"  Oh,  it  '11  be  all  dusty  !  Oh,  its  silk  clothes 
will  be  spoilt !  "  cried  the  little  girl. 

I  picked  up  the  doll,  brushed  the  dust  off, 
and  said,  — 

"  I  don't  think  it's  hurt ;  it  looks  as  bright 
and  beautiful  as  ever." 

"  Yes,  is  n't  it  a  beauty  ?  Pa  gave  it  me 
on  my  last  birthday,  and  I  don't  think  there 


124  UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I. 

ever  was  such  a  handsome  doll.  Look  at 
its  clothes,  —  all  real  silk,  and  satin,  and 
velvet." 

The  little  girl  took  the  doll  and  held  it 
before  herself  and  me,  while  she  drew  her 
own  skirts  towards  her,  and  cleared  enough 
space  on  the  seat  for  Peep  and  me,  where 
we  sat  down  and  rested. 

"  Its  dress  is  rich  silk,  its  mantle  is  thick 
satin,  and  its  hat  is  real  silk  velvet,  with  a 
lovely  curly  feather.  Just  look !  Did  you 
ever  see  such  a  beautiful  doll  ? " 

"  Well,  it 's  beautifully  dressed ;  but  I  think 
my  own  doll,  that  Uncle  gave  me,  is  prettier." 

"  Oh,  impossible  !  Never  was  such  a  hand- 
some doll  as  mine,"  said  the  little  girl,  with 
a  toss  of  her  head.  "  I  know  there  is  n't ! 
There  cant  be  !  Why,  pa  gave  more  than 
two  guineas  for  it." 

"  I  don't  know  how  much  mine  cost ;  Uncle 
did  n't  tell  me ;  but  it 's  very,  very  pretty, 
and  I  love  it  dearly." 

"  Well,  I  don't  love  my  doll ;  but  I  care  for 
it  a  good  deal,  it's  so  handsome  and  so 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND    I.  125 

beautifully  dressed.  Pa  never  spares  price 
when  he  gives  me  anything,  and  he  gives  me 
lots  of  presents." 

"  Does  he  ?  "  said  Peep. 

"Yes,  he  's  very  rich;  he  is  called  the  rich 
Mr.  Botterby.  And  I  shall  be  rich  some  day. 
I  shall  be  an  heiress,  Ledwick  says." 

"  What 's  an  heiress  ?  Somebody  who  gives 
herself  airs  ?  "  asked  Peep. 

"  No,  stupid ;  somebody  who  has  lots  and 
lots  of  money  to  do  as  she  likes  with.  Here, 
Ledwick,  take  my  doll  and  hold  it  care- 

fully." 

"  Yes,  Miss  Botterby." 

"  Don't  you  carry  your  doll  yourself  ?  Bab 
always  does,"  said  Peep. 

"  Who 's  Bab  ?  " 

"  She  's  my  sister." 

Peep  pointed  to  me,  and  Miss  Botterby 
stared  at  me  again.  Then  she  said,  — 

"  Ah,  it  may  be  all  very  well  for  your 
sister  to  carry  her  own  doll ;  most  likely  she 
has  n't  a  servant  to  carry  it  for  her ;  but  I 
have.  Ma  never  lets  me  go  out  without 


126  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

Ledwick  to  attend  me.  You  see,  I'm  the 
daughter  of  the  rich  Mr.  Botterby,  and  it 
would  n't  do  for  me  to  go  about  alone,  like 
a  nobody." 

"  Are  you  a  somebody  ?  "  asked  Peep. 

"Of  course;  and  ma  don't  approve  of 
my  mixing  with  nobodies.  Who  's  your  pa 
and  rna?" 

"  We  have  n't  got  any.  They  're  gone  to 
heaven.  We  have  only  Uncle  now." 

"  Who  's  he  ?  " 

"  Captain  Bruff;  we  live  with  him." 

"  A  captain,  is  he  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  He  's  the  Uncle  who  gave  me  the  doll  I 
told  you  of;  I  '11  bring  it  to  show  you  some 
day,"  I  said. 

"  You  can  if  you  like  ;  but  I  know  it  can't 
be  nearly  so  beautiful  as  mine.  Has  it  real 
silk  clothes  ?  " 

"  No ;  it  has  white  baby-clothes." 

"  Oh,  muslin,  or  linen,  or  calico ;  it  can't 
be  so  handsome  as  mine." 

"  But  it 's  very  pretty,  and  the  clothes  can 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  127 

take  off  and  on,  and  they  can  wash.  Silk 
ones  can't,  you  know." 

"  Oh,  well,  I  don't  mind  that.  If  my  doll's 
dress  had  been  spoilt  when  it  was  tumbled 
into  the  dust,  I  could  have  asked  pa  to  buy 
me  a  new  one.  He  never  minds  expense." 

"  He  seems  to  be  a  very  kind  papa." 

"  I  don't  know  about  '  kind.'  He  some- 
times rows  up  awfully;  but  he  don't  mind 
spending  money." 

"Don't  you  think,  miss,  you'd  better  be 
going  home  ?"  said  Ledwick.  "It's  getting 
dark ;  and  you  know  your  ma  does  n't  like 
you  to  be  out  after  dark,  she  's  so  afeard  of 
your  taking  cold,  you  know." 

"  Oh,  yes ;  I  know  how  she  fusses  over  me. 
Well,  let 's  go  home.  And  if  you  like  to 
come  here  again  some  day,"  she  said,  turning 
to  me,  "to  show  me  your  doll,  you  can.  I 
often  come  here  when  the  weather 's  fine ; 
this  walk's  just  a  nice  distance  from  where 
I  live,  —  Botterby  House,  you  know,  —  and 
this  seat  is  nice  to  rest  upon  before  I  go 
back." 


128  UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I. 

We  took  a  hasty  leave  of  her,  Peep  and  I 
setting  off  to  run  downhill,  as  evening  was 
fast  coming  on  and  the  clouds  were  thick- 
ening over  the  sky.  As  we  passed  through 
the  village  I  looked  up  at  the  window  of  the 
cottage  where  I  knew  Miss  King  lived,  and 
•wondered  whether  her  mother  was  any  bet- 
ter. I  saw  a  light  behind  the  white  curtain- 
blind,  and  wished  I  could  go  in  and  ask ;  but 
it  was  getting  so  late  that  I  hurried  on,  hoping 
to  be  home  before  Uncle  returned  to  dinner. 

We  were  there  in  such  good  time  that  I  had 
plenty  for  putting  his  slippers  near  the  fender, 
and  setting  his  chair  close  by  the  fire  ready  for 
him  just  as  we  heard  his  ring  at  the  bell.  He 
seemed  more  than  ever  inclined  to  be  silent 
and  busily  thinking  that  evening;  so  I  did  n't 
talk  to  him,  but  sat  with  Peep,  looking  over 
the  funny  figures  in  a  picture-book  that  Uncle 
had  brought  us  from  town. 

We  were  very  glad  of  this  picture-book, 
as  well  as  of  a  box  of  bricks  and  a  Noah's 
ark  that  he  had  lately  given  us,  for  several 
days  after  this;  because  next  morning  we 


UXCLE,    PEEP,   AND    I.  129 

found  the  garden  was  all  white  with  snow, 
and  we  could  not  get  out  of  doors  for  nearly 
a  week.  We  used  to  see  Ned  Carter  come 
the  first  thing  in  the  morning  to  sweep  a 
path  through  the  snow  from  the  house-door 
to  the  garden-gate,  for  Uncle  to  go  out  by ; 
but  no  gardening  could  be  done  all  that  time, 
so  Peep  had  no  amusement  except  indoors ; 
though  he  was  n't  dull,  playing  with  his  toys, 
or  I  either,  dressing  and  undressing  my  doll 
and  putting  her  to  bed  in  the  cradle  which 
Uncle  had  also  given  me  for  her.  But  I 
sometimes  thought  of  Miss  King,  and  wished 
very  much  I  could  have  gone  and  seen  her 
and  asked  her  how  her  mother  was ;  which 
I  should  have  done,  if  it  had  not  snowed  so 
hard  every  day.  At  last  I  thought  of  asking 
Sue  if  she  had  heard  anything  of  Mrs.  King. 

"  Lor',  yes,  miss ;  I  've  heard  she  's  as 
bad  as  bad  can  be,  and  ain't  expected  to  last 
long.  Poor  Miss  King  takes  it  to  heart 
dreadful,  and  sits  by  her  mother's  bedside 
night  and  day ;  never  leaves  her  for  a  single 

instant.      It 's  wearing   herself  out,   she   is ; 

9 


130  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

and  a  good  daughter  she  is,  that 's  the  truth. 
And  everybody  says  so  too." 

"  I  wonder  whether  Uncle  knows  she 's 
wearing  herself  out." 

"  Lor'  bless  you,  yes,  Miss,  to  be  sure  he 
do.  There  's  not  a  day  he  misses  calling  to 
know  how  Mrs.  King 's  a-going  on  ;  he  's  done 
so  for  many  a  day ;  but  Miss  King  can  hardly 
spare  him  a  moment  away  from  her  mother, 
and  only  just  sees  him,  and  tells  him  she  's 
no  better,  and  then  runs  awray  upstairs  again. 
I  know  it ;  for  the  blacksmith's  forge  is  just 
opposite  the  cottage  where  they  live,  and  the 
blacksmith's  daughter,  Polly  Trebbitt,  is  my 
great  friend,  and  is  the  best  of  friends  too 
with  Bet,  the  servant-gal  at  Mrs.  Hodgkin's, 
where  Mrs.  and  Miss  King  lodge ;  so  Polly 
tells  me  all  about  them.  They  've  been  gen- 
tlefolks, you  see,  miss,  and  have  come  down 
in  the  world  ;  so  Miss  King  has  done  needle- 
work for  her  living,  and  has  kept  her  mother 
comfortable  ever  since  with  her  own  hands." 

"  That  must  be  very  comfortable  for  her- 
self, Sue." 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AXD   I.  131 

"  Yes,  miss,  to  be  sure  it  is  ;  for,  in  course, 
her  mother  kept  her  while  they  were  well 
off,  and  she  's  comforted  to  be  able  to  keep 
her  mother  when  they  're  badly  on0." 

"  And  Miss  King  sadly  wants  comfort  now, 
Sue,  if  her  mother  is  so  ill,  so  very  ill,  that  she 
can't  recover.  I  wish  I  could  go  and  see  her, 
and  try  to  give  her  all  the  comfort  I  can. 
She  was  very  good  to  me,  and  comforted  me 
very  much  when  Peep  was  so  ill." 

"  Well,  miss,  when  the  snow  gives  over, 
you  can  go  and  see  her,  you  know." 

"  So  I  can,  and  so  I  will,  Sue." 

The  next  morning,  to  my  great  joy,  there 
was  no  snow  falling,  and  -I  saw  Ned  Carter, 
after  sweeping  the  paths,  begin  to  do  a  little 
digging.  As  soon  as  Uncle  was  gone  to  town, 
Peep  and  I  ran  into  the  garden,  and  bade 
Ned  "  good  morning "  before  going  out  of 
the  gate,  as  I  meant  to  walk  straight  to  Miss 
King. 

"  'Morning,  little  miss ;  'morning,  little  mas- 
ter," said  Ned,  tugging  the  lock  of  hair  on  his 
forehead.  "  Bad  news  in  the  village.  They 


132  UNCLE,  -PEEP,   AND   I. 

say  that  Mrs.  King  died  last  night,  and  that 
her  poor  daughter  has  lain  in  a  dead  faint 
ever  since.  They  're  afeard  she  '11  follow  her 
mother  in  no  time,  if  she  ain't  kept  quiet  as 
quiet  can  be." 

"  Then  it  would  n't  do  for  me  to  go  to  her, 
I  suppose,  Ned  ?  " 

"  Lor'  bless  you,  miss,  it'd  be  as  much  as 
her  life  's  worth  to  go  and  bother  her  now." 

"  But  I  would  n't  bother  her,  Ned.  I  would 
only  go  and  kiss  her  on  tiptoe,  just  as  she 
lies,  and  it  would  n't  disturb  her,  for  I 
wouldn't  even  speak  one  word  to  her — not 
even  in  a  whisper." 

"  I  don't  know,  miss  :  I  doubt  you  would  n't 
be  let  to  see  her.  Doctor  was  called  in  by 
Mrs.  Hodgkin  before  light  this  morning,  and 
he  gave  strict  orders  as  not  a  soul  but  herself 
was  to  go  a-near  her  till  she  come  out  of  her 
faint.  Mrs.  Hodgkin  is  a  good  kind  woman, 
and  she  '11  see  to  her  herself  meantime." 

All  day  long  I  could  think  of  nothing  but 
Miss  King,  excepting  of  Uncle,  who  I  felt  sure 
must  be  very  sorrowful  about  her.  So,  when 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  133 

he  came  home  that  evening  very  late,  and 
looking  as  if  he  did  not  know  what  he  was 
about,  or  what  was  on  the  table,  all  dinner- 
time, I  took  courage  to  go  to  him  when  he 
threw  himself  into  his  chair  near  the  fire,  after 
Sue  had  taken  away  the  cloth. 

I  seated  myself  on  his  knee,  and  put  my 
hand  softly  on  his  breast,  and  said,  as  gently 
as  I  could,  — 

"  Uncle,  I  know  what  you  are  grieving 
for." 

"  Do  you,  my  little  Bab  ? "  he  said,  in  a 
dreamy  kind  of  a  way. 

"  Yes,  Uncle.  You  are  afraid  Miss  King 
has  worn  herself  out  nursing  her  mother,  and 
won't  be  able  to  marry  you.  But  I  think  it 
must  have  been  such  a  comfort  to  her,  that 
when  once  she  comes  out  of  her  ( dead  faint,' 
she  '11  not  be  worn  out  at  all,  but  perhaps  be 
the  better  for  having  done  what  she  knew  she 
ought  to  do  ;  and  that  ought  to  comfort  you, 
oughtn't  it,  Uncle?" 

"  It  does  comfort  me,  little  one  ;  and  you 
comfort  me,  my  rum  little  Bab.  You  talk 


134  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

to  me  like  the  queer  little  sensible  creature 
I  've  always  found  you ;  so  sensible,  that 
I'll  tell  you  what  I  have  done,  and  I  think 
you  '11  understand  it,  bit  of  a  creature  as  you 
are.  When  I  called  there  this  morning  —  as 
I  do  every  morning,  you  must  know  —  " 

"  Yes,  I  know,  Uncle." 

"  You  do,  Bab  ?  Why,  I  never  said  any- 
thing to  anybody  about  going  there.  How- 
ever, when  I  went  there  this  morning  and 
found  how  it  had  been  with  my  darling,  I 
took  the  matter  into  my  own  hands,  and  acted 
for  her,  as  she  could  n't  act  for  herself.  I  look 
upon  her  as  my  wife  and  upon  myself  as  her 
husband,  —  I  have  done  so  ever  since  she 
promised  to  marry  me  —  " 

Uncle  said  this  as  if  he  were  half  talking 
to  himself;  and,  after  breaking  off  for  a  mo- 
ment and  looking  into  the  fire  in  his  old  way, 
he  went  on,  still  seeming  to  say  it  half  to 
himself,  half  to  me. 

"  She  would  never  hear  of  marrying  me 
as  long  as  her  mother  lived,  lest  the  change 
might  hasten  her  end  \  so  I  waited  patiently, 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  135 

to  please  her.  But  this  morning,  when  I  saw 
her  lying  there  speechless,  just  come  to  after 
her  long  swoon,  and  the  doctor  standing  by, 
I  told  him  all  the  truth ;  said  I  considered  her 
mine  already,  and  meant  to  make  her  my 
wife  as  soon  as  possible.  He  said  I  was  quite 
right,  and  gave  me  hope  that  she  would  soon 
be  herself  again ;  but  made  it  a  condition 
that  she  should  be  kept  perfectly  quiet,  and 
see  nobody  for  the  next  few  days." 

"Not  even  me,  Uncle  ?  " 

"  Not  even  you,  little  Bab.  Not  even  me, 
my  little  comforter  Bab.  I  mean  to  keep  my- 
self from  fretting  to  see  her,  by  busying  my- 
self about  her  mother's  funeral,  so  as  to  have 
it  properly  and  quietly  over  by  the  time  my 
darling  is  herself  again.  Then,  one  of  these 
fine  mornings  I  shall  take  her  to  some  quiet 
church  in  London,  where  we'll  get  married 
together ;  so  that  I  can  carry  her  away  for 
a  week  or  two  to  the  seaside  place  where  she 
was  born,  and  set  her  up  again  in  health  and 
strength  before  bringing  her  home  here." 

"  Oh,  that  is  a  good  plan,  Uncle  !  " 


136  UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I. 

I  said  this  to  keep  on  comforting  him ; 
therefore  I  did  not  tell  him  how  glad  I  should 
have  been  if  the  wedding  could  have  been 
in  our  own  pretty  village  church,  where  I 
could  have  seen  him  and  Miss  King  married, 
and  Peep  and  I  could  have  enjoyed  the  gay 
sight  and  pleasant  holiday. 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  137 


CHAPTER  X. 

LL  took  place  as  Uncle  had  planned, 
and  the  morning  came  when  he 
went  away  to  be  married.  Though 
it  was  a  bright  sunny  day,  the 
house  looked  rather  dull,  and  even  in  the 
garden  I  felt  a  little  dull  too,  thinking  we 
should  not  see  Uncle  coming  up  the  path  to 
dine  at  home  with  us  that  evening ;  so  I 
asked  Peep  if  we  should  take  a  walk  together. 
He  joyfully  said  yes,  and  I  ran  to  fetch  my 
doll,  in  case  we  should  chance  to  meet  with 
Miss  Botterby,  as  I  had  promised  to  show  it 
to  her. 

When  we  reached  the  top  of  the  hill,  there 
was  nobody  on  the  seat  under  the  tree,  so 
Peep  and  I  had  it  all  to  ourselves. 

"I  'm  glad  that  girl's  not  here,"  said  he. 
"Why,  Peep?" 


138  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

"  Because  she  's  rude,  and  takes  up  all  the 
room." 

"  But  she  made  room  for  us  at  last." 

"Yes,  when  I  made  her  make  room  by 
pushing  off  her  doll." 

"  Oh,  Peep,  you  should  n't  have  done  that ! 
That  was  rude ;  and  you  might  have  spoiled 
it  or  broken  it." 

"  Suppose  I  had,  her  pa  would  have  bought 
her  another;  you  know  she  said  so.  How 
fond  she  seems  to  be  of  showing  off  about  his 
riches !  That 's  another  piece  of  rudeness  in 
her,  as  if  she  wanted  to  show  how  much  more 
money  they  have  in  their  house  than  other 
people  have  in  theirs.  I  don't  like  her,  and 
I  'm  glad  she  's  not  here." 

"  Well,  I  'm  sorry ;  I  wanted  to  show  her 
my  doll." 

"  She  would  only  say  it  is  n't  so  grand  as 
hers." 

"  Never  mind  if  she  did.  I  should  always 
like  mine  best." 

"The  only  thing  I  should  like  her  to 
come  for,  is  because  she  'd  find  us  here 


UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND   I.  139 

first,  and  we'd  not  make  room  for  her  this 
time." 

"  Oh,  Peep,  then  you  would  be  as  rude  as 
she  was." 

Peep  did  n't  answer  this,  but  began  shuf- 
fling his  feet  among  the  dust  of  the  path  as 
he  sat,  and  seemed  to  be  thinking  of  what  I 
said. 

Presently  I  saw  coming  round  the  corner 
of  the  lane  which  turned  off  from  the  road  at 
the  top  of  the  hill,  Miss  Botterby  and  her 
maid  Ledwick,  who  walked  a  little  behind 
her,  carrying  her  doll. 

"  Oh,  how  lucky  !  Here  she  is !  And  she 
has  brought  her  doll  with  her.  How  lucky ! " 

I  ran  to  meet  her ;  but  Peep  kept  his  place 
on  the  seat,  still  shuffling  his  feet  among 
the  dust  and  gathering  it  up  into  little 
heaps. 

"  Oh,  you  've  brought  your  doll,  as  you 
promised,  I  see,"  said  Miss  Botterby,  as  she 
and  I  sat  ourselves  down.  "  It 's  a  nice  large 
doll,  and  has  a  very  pretty  wax  face  and 
arms,  and  looks  exactly  like  a  real  baby. 


140  UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I. 

But  what  a  pity  it  has  n't  a  hat  and  a  mantle 
on !  Mine  has,  you  see,  when  I  take  it  out 
of  doors." 

"  Babies  don't  wear  hats  and  mantles,"  said 
Peep. 

"But  they  wear  hoods  and  long  cloaks, 
though." 

"  Bab  can  ask  Uncle  to  get  a  hood  and 
cloak  for  her  doll,  if  she  likes.  He  always 
buys  her  anything  she  asks  for." 

"  Is  your  Uncle  rich  ?  " 

"  I  should  think  so !  He  gives  us  lots  of 
toys,  and  lots  of  good  things  to  eat.  He  lets 
us  have  jam  and  honey  and  marmalade  and 
pies  and  puddings,  and  he  gave  me  a  beauti- 
ful real  wheelbarrow." 

"  A  wheelbarrow !  What  a  toy !  Only  fit 
for  a  gardener's  boy  !  " 

"  I  like  it ;  and  I  'in  a  gentleman's  boy,  — 
a  young  gentleman." 

"  Are  you  ?  " 

Miss  Botterby  kept  her  eyes  fixed  upon 
Peep  for  some  moments.  Then  she  turned 
to  me  and  said, — 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  141 

"  When  your  Uncle  buys  you  a  hood  and 
cloak  for  your  doll,  you  can  come  up  to  Bot- 
terby  House  and  show  it  me  properly  dressed 
for  going  out;  I  know  ma  won't  mind  your 
coming  to  see  us,  though  she  's  very  particu- 
lar what  little  girls  and  boys  I  make  acquaint- 
ance with  and  invite  to  our  house." 

"  I  don't  think  I  shall  ask  Uncle  to  buy  me 
a  hood  and  cloak  for  my  doll." 

"Why  not?" 

"  Because  he  gives  me  so  many  things  of 
his  own  accord,  that  I  don't  like  to  ask  him 
for  any.  It  seems  like  —  like  —  " 

"  Encroaching,  she  means,"  said  Peep. 
"  Bab  often  says  mother  used  to  tell  her  it 
was  not  right  to  be  encroaching." 

"  Well,  if  you  don't  like  to  ask  your  Uncle 
to  give  you  the  going-out  things  for  your  doll, 
I  '11  tell  you  what  I  '11  do.  I  '11  let  Ledwick 
take  its  measure,  and  1  '11  give  her  some  white 
cashmere  and  white  satin  to  make  a  splendid 
hood  and  cloak  for  it.  I  '11  get  ma  to  buy  me 
as  much  as  will  be  enough  to  make  them, 
—  I  know  she  will,  —  and  you  can  come  up 


142  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

to  our  house  and  fetch  them  when  they  're 
made ;  and  then  you  can  see  what  a  beautiful 
place  we  've  got,  —  what  handsome  furniture 
and  what  fine  grounds  we  have  at  Botterby 
House." 

"  Oh,  how  very  kind  !     That  will  be  nice ! " 

While  Ledwick  was  measuring  my  doll's 
head  and  round  its  shoulders  and  its  length, 
a  little  girl  in  a  blue  frock  and  a  straw  hat, 
with  a  little  boy  in  a  sailor's  suit,  came  up  the 
hill  and  stopped  still,  looking  at  us. 

"  Let 's  ask  them  if  they  'd  like  to  sit 
down,"  I  whispered  to  Miss  Botterby. 

"  You  can,  if  you  like,"  she  answered. 

Peep  had  already  slipped  off  the  seat  and 
offered  his  place  to  the  little  girl  in  the  blue 
frock.  I  gave  mine  to  the  little  boy  who 
was  with  her. 

"  If  we  were  to  squeeze  a  little  and  sit 
close,"  said  Peep,  "  there  'd  be  room  for  us 
all." 

"  My  frock  would  get  rumpled  if  we  sat 
too  near  each  other,"  said  Miss  Botterby. 

"  Oh,  never  mind  your  frock  for  once  in  a 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  143 

way,"  said  Peep,  hunching  himself  on  to  the 
edge  of  the  seat  at  the  end  farthest  from  her 
and  close  to  the  little  girl. 

"  Then  you  sit  next  me,"  said  Miss  Botterby 
to  me.  "  Ma 's  very  particular  who  comes 
too  near  me  and  is  too  intimate  with  me, 
and  I  like  you  better  than  these  children ;  I 
don't  know  who  they  are,  and  I  seem  to  know 
you  quite  well  already." 

"  What  a  nice  sweet  face  the  little  girl  has, 
and  what  a  pretty  frock  she  has  on!"  I  whis- 
pered in  return. 

"  It 's  only  common  stuff,"  said  Miss  Bot- 
terby ;  "  and  her  straw  hat  is  as  coarse  as 
coarse  can  be.  Mine  is  the  finest  chip." 

She  had  not  lowered  her  voice  as  I  had,  so 
that  all  heard  what  she  said. 

"  If  it 's  only  coarse  straw,  it 's  a  very 
pretty  shape,  I  think,"  said  Peep,  looking  up 
at  the  hat  next  him ;  "  and  the  fine  chip  one 
is  the  ugliest  shape  I  ever  saw." 

"  But  chip  is  much  handsomer  than  straw, 
and  costs  more,  and  everybody  would  rather 
wear  a  chip  hat  than  a  straw  one  if  they 


144  UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I. 

could  afford  it,"  said  Miss  Botterby,  tossing 
her  head. 

"  I  would  n't,"  said  the  little  girl  in  the 
blue  frock. 

"  Then  you  're  a  silly  thing,"  said  Miss  Bot- 
terby. 

"  She  ain't  silly  ! "  said  the  little  boy,  look- 
ing up  suddenly  with  flashing  eyes  across  me 
at  Miss  Botterby. 

"  What 's  that  written  in  gold  letters  on  the 
ribbon  round  your  hat  ?  "  said  she,  staring  at 
him  in  return. 

"Can't  you  read?"  he  said.  "Why, 
they  're  big  plain  letters  that  anybody  can 
make  out." 

"  Perhaps  she  can't  read,"  said  Peep. 

Miss  Botterby  got  very  red,  and  did  n't 
answer.  Peep  laughed,  and  said,  — 

"  Why,  even  I,  little  as  I  am,  can  read 
those  big  printing-letters.  They  spell  '  The 
Terrible.' " 

"  Quite  a  good  name  for  him,  I  declare  !  " 
said  Miss  Botterby.  "  He  looked  as  if  he 
could  have  eaten  me,  just  now." 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  145 

"  It  is  n't  his  name,  it 's  the  name  of  his 
ship,"  said  Peep. 

"  Oh,  indeed  !  But  I  should  think  he  's  too 
young  to  have  a  ship." 

"  I  mean  the  ship  he  's  supposed  to  belong 
to  when  he  's  got  on  his  sailor's  suit.  Of 
course  it 's  not  his  own  name." 

"  What  is  his  own  name  ?  " 

u  I  don't  know.  What  is  your  name  ? " 
said  Peep,  suddenly,  to  the  little  boy. 

"  Jamie." 

"  Ah,  that 's  your  Christian  name,"  said 
Miss  Botterby ;  "  but  what 's  the  name  of 
your  father  and  mother  ?  " 

"  Sir  James  and  Lady  Buckhurst,"  said  the 
little  boy,  quietly. 

Miss  Botterby  drew  back  as  if  she  had  been 
suddenly  slapped.  After  a  few  moments  she 
said, — 

"  I  'm  sure  I  beg  your  pardon ;  I  took  you 
for  quite  poor  children,  —  such  plain  clothes 
—  no  maid  with  you.  Are  you  allowed  to 
walk  out  by  yourselves  ?  " 

"  Our  old  coachman  is  with  us ;  but  he  had 
10 


146  UNCLE,   PEEP,  AND   I. 

to  call  at  the  forge  about  shoeing  the  horses, 
so  Jamie  and  I  walked  up  the  hill,  knowing 
he  would  soon  overtake  us,"  said  the  little 
girl  in  as  quiet  a  tone  as  her  brother's. 

"Really,  Miss  Buckhurst,  if  I'd  known  — ' 

Seeing  that  Miss  Botterby  stopped,  as  if  at 

a  loss  what  to  say,  Miss  Buckhurst  looked  at 

the   two  dolls   and  said   how  beautiful  they 

were. 

"  Which  do  you  like  best  ?  "  asked  Miss 
Botterby. 

"  I  like  them  both  very  much  ;  but  I  think 
the  baby-doll  is  perhaps  the  nicest  to  have, 
it's  so  natural,  and  must  be  so  pleasant  to 
play  with.  Yes,  for  my  own,  I  should  like  a 
baby-doll  certainly  best." 

"  Have  n't  you  got  a  doll,  then  ?  " 
"  No ;  my  father  says  he  has  not  money 
enough  to  afford  many  toys  for  us.  He  lately 
gave  Jamie  a  strong  cart,  because  he  said  it 
would  do  for  us  both  to  play  with,  and  that 
it  would  last  a  long  time." 

"  Then,  after  all,  you  are  poor  ?  " 

"  Well,  yes ;    we  are  not  rich,  I  believe. 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  147 

My  mother  often  says  so,  and  teaches  us  to  be 
careful  and  never  wasteful." 

"  Oh,  well,  my  pa  and  ma  are  very  rich. 
He 's  called  i  the  rich  Mr.  Botterby,'  and 
we  live  at  Botterby  House.  Would  you  like 
to  come  and  see  it  some  day  ?  I  'm  sure  ma 
would  n't  object  to  my  inviting  you ;  and  we 
should  be  very  glad  to  see  you  there  and 
show  you  over  the  place." 

"  I  will  ask  my  mother  if  she  will  let  me 
come.  Oh,  there  's  Stubbs,"  said  Miss  Buck- 
hurst,  as  the  old  coachman  came  up  the  hill 
towards  us.  She  wished  us  all  quietly  "  good 
morning,"  and  she  and  her  little  brother  went 
away  with  him. 

"  Well,  I  never  was  so"  surprised.  I  had  n't 
the  least  notion  who  they  were.  Who  could 
have  thought  they  were  the  little  Buckhursts? 
They  live  at  Buckhurst  Park ;  I  've  often 
heard  of  it,  and  that  it 's  even  a  finer  place 
than  pa's.  At  least,  that  it 's  older,  and  has 
grander  trees ;  but  ours  is  very  beautiful,  and 
you  can  come  and  see  me  there  whenever  you 
like." 


148  UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I. 

"  Thank  you !  When  do  you  think  the 
hood  and  cloak  will  be  ready  ?  Because  I  can 
bring  my  doll  and  try  them  on  at  once." 

Miss  Botterby  turned  to  her  maid,  and 
asked  her  how  long  she  thought  they  would 
take  making. 

"  There  '11  be  the  wheedling  your  ma  to 
give  you  the  materials,  miss,  and  then  there'll 
be  the  getting  'em  bought,  and  then  the  cut- 
ting 'em  out,  and  then  the  making  on  'ern 
up ;  so  that  it  '11  take  a  good  bit  o'  time." 

"About  four  days,  do  you  think,  Led- 
wick  ? " 

"  Lauk,  miss !  Not  afore  a  week,  at  least, 
I  should  say." 

"  Well,  then,  this  day  week  I  shall  expect 
you,"  said  Miss  Botterby,  shaking  hands  with 
me  and  walking  away  with  her  maid,  while 
Peep  and  I  took  our  way  downhill. 

"  You  '11  allow  that  she  's  rude  now,  Bab,  I 
suppose.  You  saw  how  she  behaved  to  those 
other  children,  till  she  found  out  who  they 
were ;  and  to  us  she 's  little  better.  Not 
that  I  want  her  to  shake  hands,  I  'm  sure,  but 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  149 

she  is  n't  civil  enough  to  shake  hands  with  me 
or  say  '  good  morning '  to  me.  Not  that  I 
care,  though." 

"  But  you  're  not  very  civil  to  her,  Peep. 
That  was  why  she  asked  me  to  go  to  Botterby 
House,  and  not  you,  I  dare  say." 

"  I  don't  want  to  go  there,  and  I  should  n't 
go  there  if  she  asked  me  ever  so  much.  She 's 
a  rude,  vulgar  girl,  though  she  is  so  rich. 
Now,  the  other  little  girl  is  very  different; 
for  all  her  coarse  straw  hat  and  her  stuff  frock, 
you  can  see  at  once  she 's  a  little  lady.  I 
knew  the  moment  I  saw  her  that  she  was  not 
a  poor  common  child." 

"  She  said  she  is  poor,  —  at  least,  not  rich." 

"  Ah,  I  suppose  not  rich  for  a  girl  who  has 
a  father  and  mother  with  '  Sir  James  and 
Lady  '  before  their  names." 

While  Peep  and  I  were  still  talking  of  the 
children  we  had  met,  we  reached  the  vil- 
lage and  were  passing  the  cottage  where  Miss 
King  had  lodged.  I  stopped  for  a  moment, 
looking  at  it  and  thinking  of  her  and  won- 
dering whether  she  was  Uncle's  wife  by  this 


150  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND  I. 

time,  when  from  out  of  the  door  ran  a  young 
woman,  who  came  up  to  me,  and  said,  — 

"  Please,  miss,  ain't  you  Captain  Bruff  's 
little  girl  ?  Missus  thinks  you  are,  and  bids 
me  ask  if  you  'd  just  step  in  a  moment,  as 
she  's  got  something  to  tell  you." 


UNCLE,   PEEP.   AND  I.  151 


CHAPTER  XI. 

FOLLOWED  the  young  woman  — 
who  I  guessed  must  be  Mrs.  Hodg- 
kin's  servant,  that  Sue  had  told  me 
was  called  Bet  —  into  the  cottage, 
where  I  found  Mrs.  Hodgkin  waiting  for  me 
in  the  parlor. 

"  My  dear  young  miss,"  said  she,  "  I  made 
bold  to  have  you  called  in  here,  because  I 
wanted  to  tell  you  something  and  to  show 
you  something.  I  had  a  great  respect  for 
Mrs.  King,  —  she  was  quite  the  gentlewoman; 
and  her  sweet  good  daughter,  too,  —  there  's 
few  like  her  for  dutifulness  and  right-doing, 
and  always  such  a  pretty  polite  way  with  her 
to  everybody,  the  lowest  as  well  as  the  high- 
est, —  and  I  felt  more  for  them  in  their  sor- 
rows than  I  can  say.  When  Miss  King  was 
working  her  fingers  to  the  bone,  and  wearing 


152  UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND   I. 

herself  to  a  thread  to  earn  their  living,  it 
was  bad  enough;  but  when  the  mother  was 
taken  ill,  and  the  daughter  got  as  pale  as  a 
ghost,  sitting  up  night  after  night  nursing  her, 
yet  stitching  hard  all  day  just  the  same,  my 
heart  fairly  bled  for  them.  The  evening  be- 
fore Mrs.  King  took  to  her  bed,  never  to  rise 
from  it, — more  's  the  pity  ! — she  had  in  her 
hands  this." 

Mrs.  Hodgkin  pulled  open  a  table-drawer 
and  took  from  it  a  half-finished  stocking  with 
four  knitting-needles  sticking  in  it,  and  the 
point  of  one  of  them  into  a  ball  of  cotton  as 
well. 

"  Mrs.  King  used  to  knit  all  her  own  and 
her  daughter's  stockings,  and  she  sighed  when 
she  put  this  down ;  and  I  heard  her  say  softly 
to  herself,  for  I  chanced  to  be  close  to  her 
arm-chair  while  she  said  it,  and  her  daughter 
happened  to  be  at  a  little  distance,  '  Who 
knows  whether  I  shall  ever  finish  it  for  her  ? 
But  God's  will  be  done ! '  Her  daughter 
helped  her  upstairs,  and  I  took  the  knitting 
and  needles  and  ball,  just  as  they  were,  and 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  153 

put  them  carefully  away  in  this  very  drawer 
ready  for  her  when  she  next  came  down  ;  but 
she  never  did  come  down,  poor  lady  !  and  the 
things  went  out  of  my  mind  till  this  very 
morning,  when  I  happened  to  open  the 
drawer,  after  Miss  King  went  away  to  be 
married  to  your  Uncle,  my  dear  young  miss, 
and  I  thought  I  would  give  them  to  you  to 
give  them  to  her  when  she  comes  back  from 
her  wedding-tour.  I  think  they  '11  perhaps 
come  better  to  her  from  you  than  from  me ; 
because  she 's  accustomed  to  see  me  with  her 
mother,  and  it  might  make  her  cry  if  I  gave 
them  to  her.  Whereas,  if  they  came  to  her 
from  an  innocent  child,  it  would  touch  her 
softly  instead  of  sorrowfully.  She  '11  be 
glad  to  have  them,  I  know,  though  at  first 
they  '11  make  her  sad.  It 's  natural,  both  the 
gladness  and  the  sadness ;  but  the  gladness 
will  be  most,  in  the  end,  so  I  send  them  to 
her.  Please  give  them  to  her  at  some  quiet 
moment,  my  dear,  with  my  best  respects,  and 
tell  Miss  King  —  Mrs.  Bruff,  I  should  say  — 
how  they  were  found  by  me.  There  's  a  look 


154  UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I. 

in  your  young  face  that  shows  me  you  are 
just  the  child  to  tell  it  all  to  her  in  the  right 
way  and  at  the  right  time.  Good-by,  dear ; 
I  must  n't  keep  you  here  any  longer." 

"  Good-by,  Mrs.  Hodgkin ;  and  thank  you 
for  giving  me  these  to  give  back  to  her." 

Peep,  who  had  been  rather  impatient  while 
Mrs.  Hodgkin  was  talking,  gave  me  his  hand 
quickly,  and  we  left  the  cottage.  Directly 
we  were  outside,  he  said,  — 

"  What  long  speeches  Mrs.  Hodgkin  makes! 
What  a  time  she  kept  us !  And  I  'm  so  hun- 
gry, and  it 's  long  after  lunch-time,  I  'm  cer- 
tain. I  wonder  what  Sue  has  got  us  for 
lunch,  —  a  mince-pie,  perhaps." 

"  Do  you  know,  Peep,  I  think  if  it 's  so  very 
late,  we  'd  perhaps  better  not  have  lunch  at 
all ;  it  '11  only  spoil  our  appetite  for  dinner." 

"  Don't  you  be  afraid  of  that,  Bab.  I 
always  make  a  good  dinner,  however  late  we 
have  lunch." 

"  I  'm  not  quite  sure  that  we  're  not  eating 
more  than  is  good  for  us,  Peep,  since  Uncle  's 
away." 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  155 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  How  can  we  pos- 
sibly eat  too  much  ?  I  've  often  heard  people 
say  a  hearty  appetite  is  a  sign  of  good  health, 
and  we  want  to  be  healthy,  don't  we  ?  " 

"  Of  course  we  do ;  but  perhaps  too  many 
good  things  at  once  —  too  much  mince-pie 
and  plum-pudding  at  a  time  —  may  n't  be 
quite  right  for  us." 

I  said  "  us,"  because  I  thought  Peep  might 
n't  like  to  have  me  say  "  you "  ;  though  it 
was  really  of  him  I  had  been  thinking  when  I 
talked  of  eating  too  much  and  too  many  good 
things  at  once.  Lately,  since  we  had  been 
only  ourselves  at  table,  he  had  helped  him- 
self to  such  large  platefuls  of  everything,  and 
had  put  such  large  mouthfuls  into  his  mouth, 
and  had  swallowed  them  down  so  fast,  that  I 
was  afraid  he  would  be  sick,  and  I  did  n't  want 
him  to  be  ill  again;  and  besides,  I  didn't 
wish  him  to  grow  up  a  greedy  boy,  or  to  feel 
ashamed  of  him  in  any  way,  which  I  should 
have  been  if  he  were  greedy  or  ill-mannered. 

"As  for  '  quite  right/  I  don't  know;  but 
it 's  quite  pleasant,  and  that 's  enough  for  me." 


156  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

"  No,  Peep ;  '  quite  pleasant '  ought  n't  to 
be  enough,  if  it 's  not '  quite  right '  too.  Ke- 
member  what  father  used  to  say :  '  Always 
do  what 's  right,  if  you  want  to  keep  happy, 
and  to  keep  being  a  gentleman.'  ' 

"  Yes,  that's  true  ;  and  he  taught  me  to  try 
and  keep  being  a  gentleman,  though  we  were 
so  very,  very  poor.  He  said  he  never  gave 
up  trying  to  keep  being  a  gentleman  himself, 
and  he  hoped  his  little  son  would  do  the  same 
all  his  life.  It 's  odd,  Bab,  how  well  I  can 
remember  many  things  that  father  used  to 
say  to  me,  though  I  was  such  a  very  wee 
child  when  he  said  them.  He  used  to  set  me 
on  his  knee,  and  spoke  in  such  a  serious  way 
and  in  such  a  grave  tone,  that  it  made  me 
notice  his  words  and  think  of  them  after- 
wards. I  hope  I  shall  never  forget  them. 
I  should  n't  like  to  forget  them.  Do  you 
think  I  shall,  Bab  ?  " 

"  Not  if  you  try  to  remember  them,  Peep. 
I  often  remind  myself  to  think  back  of  what 
father  and  mother  said  to  us,  and  I  find  I  can 
keep  on  remembering  very  well." 


UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND   I.  157 

"  I  mean  to  try,  and  I  '11  often  remind  my- 
self to  try ;  and  then  I  think  I  shall  remem- 
ber, and  never  forget." 

That  day,  when  we  reached  home,  Peep,  of 
his  own  accord,  told  Sue  he  did  n't  want  any 
lunch  ;  so  we  both  waited  till  dinner-time,  and 
ate  with  excellent  appetites. 

Sometimes,  after  that,  I  caught  Peep's  eye 
just  as  he  was  going  to  help  himself  to  an- 
other slice  of  bread  and  jam,  or  a  second  plate- 
ful of  anything  he  particularly  liked,  and  then 
he  would  stop  with  a  laugh,  and  content  him- 
self with  what  he  had  already  had.  I  used 
then  to  laugh  too ;  and  we  fell  into  many  a 
piece  of  fun  together  in  this  way. 

When  a  week  had  passed,  I  thought  I  would 
ask  my  way  to  Botterby  House,  and  take  my 
doll  to  have  her  new  hood  and  cloak  tried  on ; 
so  I  asked  Peep  if  he  would  go  with  me. 

"  No  !  "  he  said  shortly.  "  I  told  you  I  did 
n't  want  to  go  there,  and  I  mean  what  I  say." 

"  But  I  sha'n't  like  to  walk  there  by  my- 
self, Peep.  I  should  be  rather  afraid  to  go 
alone  so  far ;  and  besides,  I  should  feel  very 


158  UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND    I. 

shy  to  be  among  strangers ;  for  I  don't  know 
Mrs.  Botterby,  though  I  do  her  daughter." 

"  Very  little  you  know  of  either ;  and  that 
little,  very  disagreeable." 

"  I  don't  find  her  so  disagreeable  as  you  do, 
Peep.  It 's  of  Mrs.  Botterby  I  feel  shy." 

"  Then  don't  go." 

"  But  I  should  like  to  go,  if  you  would  go 
with  me.  Do,  Peep ;  it  '11  be  a  nice  long 
walk,  and  you  '11  enjoy  yourself  when  once 
you  're  out.  And  then  you  '11  like  to  see  the 
handsome  house  and  the  beautiful  old  trees. 
Oh,  should  n't  you  like  to  see  those,  Peep  ?  " 

"  Yes,  those;  but  I  don't  care  to  see  any 
more  of  her,  —  that  rude  girl." 

"  You  won't  see  much  of  her  ;  you  need  n't 
talk  to  her  at  all  if  you  don't  wish ;  I  shall 
talk  to  her ;  she  and  I  will  have  so  much  to 
say  to  each  other  about  our  dolls  that  you 
need  n't  say  a  word,  if  you  don't  like  to 
speak.  Do  go  with  me,  there 's  a  good 
Peep." 

"  What  a  coaxer  you  are,  Bab !  "  And  he 
went. 


UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND    I.  159 

The  day  was  brilliant,  and  our  road  lay 
through  lanes  with  hedgerows  and  skirting 
meadows,  into  which  we  occasionally  dived, 
when  we  came  to  a  stile  or  a  gate,  and  gath- 
ered all  the  wild  flowers  we  could  find,  which 
were  not  as  many  as  we  could  have  wished, 
since  it  was  still  winter-time.  But  we  found 
some  beautiful  snow-drops,  which  made  a 
lovely  nosegay,  and  which  Peep  carried  for 
me,  as  I  had  my  doll  in  my  arms,  and  she 
was  rather  heavy,  being  so  big. 

We  easily  found  our  way,  by  asking,  as  we 
went  along,  for  Botterby  House ;  and  when 
we  reached  there  we  saw  tall  iron  gates,  with 
a  winding  road  that  went  round  a  large  grass- 
plot,  in  the  middle  of  which  were  some  beds 
of  different  colored  leaves,  planted  in  squares 
and  three-cornered  shapes,  that  I  thought 
looked  very  bright,  as  there  were  no  flowers 
in  blossom  then. 

"What  frightful  straight  patches ! "  said  Peep. 
"  Where  are  the  fine  old  trees  she  talked  of?  " 

"There  are  some,  perhaps,  at  the  back  of 
the  house." 


160  UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND    I. 

We  came  to  a  broad  flight  of  steps  that 
looked  very,  very  white  against  the  bright 
orange-colored  gravel-paths  on  each  side,  which 
led  round  the  house  under  the  windows,  and  at 
the  top  of  the  white  steps  there  was  a  broad, 
high  doorway  between  two  large  glass  and 
gold  lamps  that  glittered  in  the  sun. 

We  went  up  the  steps  and  looked  about 
for  the  bell,  but  it  was  so  high  up  that  I 
could  hardly  reach  it  on  tiptoe.  However, 
I  did  manage  to  ring  it,  and  the  door  was 
opened  by  a  man  in  an  odd  coat  of  reddy- 
brown  color,  with  worsted  fringes,  and  cords, 
and  dangling  ends  that  had  tips  of  brass  to 
them,  and  yellowy-speckled  bordered  edges  all 
round  it.  He  did  n't  look  old,  though  he  had 
white  hair  that  seemed  floury  all  over. 

He  looked  down  at  us,  —  for  he  was  very 
tall,  —  and  he  said,  — 

"  What  might  you  be  a-wanting,  young 
people  ?  " 

"  We  want  to  see  Miss  Botterby ;  she  asked 
us  to  come  and  see  her,  and  we  're  come." 

"  Oh,  that 's  it,  is  it  ?     Step  into   the  hall, 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  161 

and  I  '11  go  and   inquire  whether  she  '11  see 

you." 

"  Of  course  she  will ;  she  said  so." 

The  tall  man  with  the  funny  coat  and  the 
floury  hair  went  away,  and  we  had  time  to 
look  about  us  and  notice  the  big  hall  we  were 
in,  that  had  all  sorts  of  odd  things  stuck  about 
the  walls  and  in  the  corners,  —  principally 
china ;  plates  and  flat  bowls  and  dishes 
against  the  walls,  large  covered  jars  in  the 
corners,  —  so  that  it  looked  almost  like  a 
china-shop.  Presently  the  tall  man  came 
back,  and  said,  — 

"  Miss  Botterby  will  be  glad  to  see  you ; 
please  step  this  way." 

He  led  us  into  a  side-parlor  that  had  a 
broad,  high  window  reaching  from  the  top 
of  the  room  to  the  ground,  and  which  gave 
a  view  into  the  garden  at  the  back  of  the 
house.  There  was  another  grass-plot,  with 
more  beds  that  had  square  and  three-cornered 
patches  of  colored  leaves  in  them  ;  but  round 
the  grass-plot,  and  reaching  far  back,  were 

some   bushes   and    some   tall    trees.      On   a 

11 


162  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

sofa,  near  the  window-curtains,  which  were 
of  thick  striped  yellow  and  scarlet  silk,  lay 
a  lady,  with  a  fur  coverlet  over  her  knees, 
and  some  crochet-work  in  her  hands.  She 
looked  lazily  up  at  us,  yawning  as  she  looked, 
but  rather  noticingly  too ;  while  almost  at 
the  same  instant  in  came  Miss  Botterby  and 
walked  towards  us,  holding  out  her  hand 
to  me. 

"  Ma,  this  is  the  little  girl  I  told  you  about, 
the  niece  of  Captain  Bruff,  you  know;  and 
this  is  her  brother." 

"  How  d'  ye  do  ? "  said  the  lady,  with 
another  half  yawn. 

"  I  've  brought  you  a  little  nosegay,"  I 
said,  as  I  took  the  bunch  of  snow-drops  from 
Peep's  hand  and  gave  them  to  Miss  Botterby. 
"  We  found  them  and  gathered  them  as  we 
came  along.  We  were  so  glad  to  find  even 
these  few." 

"  Field-flowers  !  Weeds  !  Do  you  care  for 
such  things,  Almeria  ? "  said  Mrs.  Botterby 
to  her  daughter.  "  You  had  better  take  your 
young  acquaintances  into  the  conservatory, 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  163 

and  show  them  our  exotics ;  they  are  some- 
thing like  flowers  !  But  stay ;  there  's  the 
lunch-bell.  We  '11  have  some  lunch  first, 
and  then  you  can  take  them  round  and  show 
them  our  place." 

She  got  off  her  sofa,  put  down  her  crochet, 
took  up  a  small  dog  with  a  blue  ribbon  round 
its  neck,  that  had  lain  curled  up  beside  her 
under  the  fur  coverlet,  and  led  the  way  into 
the  dining-room,  which  was  on  the  other  side 
of  the  big  hall. 

I  thought  it  rather  nasty  to  see  Mrs.  Bot- 
terby  put  bits  of  chicken  into  the  small  dog's 
mouth,  and  then  pinch  off  morsels  of  the 
bread  beside  her  and  put  them  into  her  own 
mouth  with  the  same  hand  that  had  touched 
his  slaver ;  but  I  tried  not  to  think  of  it  as 
I  ate  some  of  the  many  nice  things  on  the 
lunch-table,  and  felt  glad  that  they  were 
handed  round  by  the  young  man  with  the 
odd  coat  and  the  floury  head  instead  of  being 
helped  by  her. 

I  was  also  very  glad  to  see  that  Peep  did 
not  take  too  much  of  the  delicious  jellies  and 


164  UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND    I. 

creams  and  cakes  that  were  at  this  grand 
lunch ;  but  he  helped  himself  neatly  and 
moderately  to  some  of  them  when  they  were 
handed  to  him. 

I  saw  that  Mrs.  Botterby  noticed  how  well 
he  behaved  and  what  nice  manners  he  had, 
though  he  was  such  a  little  fellow,  and  I  felt 
very  proud  of  him  and  pleased  with  him. 

After  lunch  Mrs.  Botterby  said,  — 

"  Now,  Almeria,  you  can  take  them  round 
the  grounds ;  but  if  you  go  beyond  the  con- 
servatory, mind  you  put  a  shawl  over  your 
head  and  shoulders,  for  fear  you  should  take 
cold.  Oh,  and  take  care  to  hold  it  over  your 
mouth,  when  you  pass  out  of  the  hot-houses 
into  the  open  air.  Oh,  and  be  sure  not  to 
touch  my  white  camellias ;  you  know  I  want 
them  all  for  next  Saturday's  dinner-party, 
and  they  are  very  scarce  ;  any  of  the  rest  — 
the  red,  or  pink,  or  streaked  ones  —  you  may 
have,  if  you  want  some  to  give  a  bouquet 
to  your  young  acquaintances." 

«  All  right,  ma !  " 

But  when  Miss  Botterby  took  us  into  the 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  165 

big  hall  instead  of  going  through  the  glass- 
door  that  led  into  the  garden,  she  said,  — 

"  Let 's  go  upstairs  to  my  room  first ;  I 
want  to  show  you  how  handsomely  furnished 
it  is,  and  give  you  the  hood  and  cloak  for 
your  doll,  —  I  see  you  Ve  brought  her  with 
you,  —  so  we  can  put  them  on  at  once,  and 
you  can  carry  her  with  us  round  the  grounds 
properly  dressed  for  going  out." 

"  Yes,  that  will  be  nice !  " 

We  went  up  a  wide  staircase  that  led  out 
of  the  hall,  and  passed  into  a  beautiful  room 
that  looked  more  like  a  parlor  than  a  bed- 
room, it  was  full  of  such  a  number  of  easy- 
chairs  and  sofas  covered  with  bright  rich 
stuffs,  and  large  looking-glasses  on  the  walls, 
and  thick  curtains  of  the  same  color  as  the 
coverings  of  the  chairs  on  each  side  the 
windows  and  round  the  bed. 

"  Led  wick,  get  the  hood  and  cloak  for  Miss 
BrufFs  doll." 

The  maid,  who  came  into  the  room  at  one 
door  as  Miss  Botterby  and  I  entered  at  the 
other,  opened  a  drawer  and  took  out,  —  oh, 


166  UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I. 

such  a  lovely  white  cashmere  hood  and  cloak, 
trimmed  and  lined  with  white  satin  !  And 
when  they  were  put  on  to  my  doll,  they 
fitted  her,  —  oh,  so  beautifully. 

"  Thank  you,  oh,  thank  you,  Miss  Botterby, 
for  such  a  lovely  present !  It  seems  almost 
too  beautiful  for  me  to  take !  " 

"  Oh  dear,  no ;  I  'm  quite  glad  to  give  it 
you,  I  assure  you." 

"  And  thank  you,  too,  Ledwick,  for  making 
them  so  cleverly." 

"  Quite  welcome,  I  'm  sure,  miss." 

"  Give  me  a  shawl,  Ledwick ;  ma  makes 
such  a  fuss  about  my  wrapping  up  when  I 
go  in  and  out  of  the  hot-houses,  that  I  suppose 
I  must  have  one." 

"  To  be  sure  you  must,  miss.  0'  course 
your  ma 's  careful  about  your  health.  What 
would  she  or  your  pa  do  if  you  was  to  get 
cold  and  be  ill?" 

As  we  went  downstairs,  Miss  Botterby  said 
to  me,  — 

"  Ledwick 's  a  good  creature  and  very  fond 
of  me,  I  do  believe.  But  you  need  n't  have 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  167 

thanked  her  for  making  the  doll's  things;  I 
gave  her  orders  to  do  it,  and  she  obeyed  me, 
of  course,  and  that  was  all." 

I  was  just  going  to  tell  Miss  Botterby  that 
I  had  felt  I  ought  to  thank  Led  wick  for 
the  trouble  she  had  taken  for  me,  when  I 
was  interrupted  by  Peep's  calling  out  to 
me,  — 

"  I  've  been  seeing  such  lots  of  amusing 
things  that  Joe  has  shown  me,  —  croquet- 
balls  and  croquet-mallets,  he  called  them,  and 
said  they  were  for  playing  at  a  game  called 
croquet." 

«  Joe  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Bab  ;  I  asked  him  his  name,  and  he 
told  me  it  was  Joe." 

Peep  looked  towards  the  tall  young  man 
with  the  odd  coat  and  the  floury  head,  who 
was  standing  near  the  glass  door  leading  into 
the  garden,  ready  to  open  it  for  us  as  we 
passed  out. 


168  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND  I. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

E   means   our   footman,"    said    Miss 
Botterby,   when   we   were   in  the 
8     garden. 

"  What   a   curious  coat  he  has 
on !  "   I    said. 

"  It 's  our  livery,"  said   she.     "  It 's  hand- 
some, isn't  it? " 

"  Why  does  he  put  flour  on  his  head  ?  " 
"  He   wears   powder ;    livery  footmen,  be- 
longing to  great  people,  generally  do." 
"  Are  you  great  people  ?  "  asked  Peep. 
"  Of  course ;   pa  's  one  of  the   richest  men 
in  the  city.     But  look  ;  this  is  the  conserva- 
tory.     Is  n't   it   handsome  ?     Pa   spared   no 
expense   in  building   it   and    having  it   well 
filled  with  the  dearest  plants  and  flowers." 

The  raptures  both  Peep  and  I  fell  into  at 
the   sight  of  these  in  full  bloom,  though  it 


UNCLE,    PEEP,    AXD   I.  169 

was  winter,  seemed  very  much  to  please  Miss 
Botterbj.  She  gathered  each  of  us  a  beau- 
tiful bunch  of  camellias  of  the  richest  colors, 
and  Peep  put  his  up  to  his  nose  to  smell 
them. 

"  They  've  no  scent,"  said  she. 

"No,  none,"  he  answered;  "I  can't  find 
the  least  smell  in  them.  I  don't  like  them 
half  so  much  as  the  roses  in  Uncle's  garden." 

"  But  roses  are  common  flowers,  and  ca- 
mellias are  very  rare.  They  only  grow  in 
greenhouses.  I  suppose  your  Uncle  has  n't 
a  greenhouse,  has  he  ?  ' 

"  No,"  said  Peep.  "  But  he  has  a  garden 
full,  full,  full  of  roses,  that  Ned  Carter  keeps 
well  attended  to,  and  makes  them  blossom 
quite  late  in  the  year.  He's  very  clever 
at  it." 

"  Who  's  Ned  Carter  ?  " 

"  A  very  nice  boy  who  comes  and  gardens 
for  us." 

"  Pa  keeps  four  gardeners  and  a  gardener's 
boy.  With  all  our  hot-houses  and  large 
grounds  we  of  course  want  as  many." 


170  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND  I. 

"  How  pure  and  lovely  those  white  camel- 
lias are !  No  wonder  Mrs.  Botterby  prizes 
them  so  much,"  I  said. 

"  Yes,  they  're  beautiful,  ain't  they  ?  Ma 's 
so  fussy  over  them  ;  but  one  won't  be  missed. 
You  shall  have  one  ;  you  can  hide  it  from 
her,  you  know,  as  you  go  out.  She  '11  never 
see  it." 

"  Oh,  no,  no  !  Don't,  pray,  pray,  Miss 
Botterby  ! " 

But  before  I  could  prevent  her,  she  had 
plucked  off  one  of  the  white  flowers  and  held 
it  out  to  me. 

"  Don't  take  it,  Bab !  "  shouted  Peep, 
eagerly. 

"  No,  of  course  not,"  I  answered.  "  Thank 
you,  very,  very  much,  Miss  Botterby,  but  I 
can't  take  it !  " 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

"  Mrs.  Botterby  told  you  not  to  gather  the 
white  ones,  you  know ;  she  said  you  might 
take  any  but  those  for  us." 

"  Oh,  ma  fusses  so  ridiculously ;  she  fusses 
about  everything." 


UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND    I.  171 

"She  particularly  said,  not  the  white  ca- 
mellias. I  can't,  I  can't  take  them." 

"*But  it 's  gathered  now ;  you  must  take  it." 

"  I  can't." 

"  Say  you  won't,"  said  Peep. 

"No,  indeed,  Miss  Botterby,  I  cannot,  I 
will  not ;  you  yourself  must  see  that  I  ought 
not." 

"  And  after  all  I  Ve  done  to  please  you, 
you  won't  oblige  me  by  taking  this  stupid 
camellia.  Don't  you  see  that  it'll  get  me 
into  trouble  with  ma  if  she  finds  I  've  gath- 
ered it  against  her  positive  orders.  What 
am  I  to  do  with  it  ?  If  you  won't  take  it, 
and  help  me  to  hide  it  from  her,  I  shall  get 
into  a  fine  scrape  with  her,  and  she  '11  tell  pa, 
and  I  shall  get  into  disgrace  with  him  too." 

"  I  'm  very,  very  sorry  ;  but  I  really  can't." 

"And  after  my  giving  you  such  a  hand- 
some hood  and  cloak  for  your  doll,  too ! 
Fine  thanks,  —  not  to  do  such  a  little  thing 
to  please  me  !  " 

I  was  so  miserable  to  see  her  so  vexed, 
and  it  seemed  so  ungrateful  in  me,  that  I 


172  UNCLE,   PEEP,   ANP   I. 

felt  half  inclined  to  put  out  my  hand  for  the 
white  flower  she  kept  holding  towards  me. 

"Don't  take  it,  Bab!"  almost  screamed 
Peep. 

Suddenly  she  snatched  back  the  camellia 
and  said, — 

"  I  know  what  I  can  do  ! " 

She  began  hurriedly  digging  up  the  earth 
in  the  large  pot  where  the  plant  of  white 
camellias  grew,  with  a  bit  of  stick  she  found 
near ;  and,  plunging  the  gathered  flower  deep 
into  the  mould,  covered  it  up  close,  and 
pressed  the  earth  smoothly  on  the  top. 

"  There  !  nobody  will  ever  notice  anything. 
I  shall  never  be  found  out.  Come,  let 's  go 
and  see  the  hot-houses." 

But  neither  Peep  nor  I  could  so  soon  for- 
get what  had  passed ;  and  we  followed  Miss 
Botterby  round  the  wonders  of  the  place 
without  really  enjoying  the  peach-house,  or 
the  vine-house,  or  the  pine-house,  or  any- 
thing else  that  she  showed  us  with  her  usual 
question  of  "  Is  n't  it  handsome  ?  "  and  her 
usual  assurance  that  "  it  cost  lots  of  money." 


UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND    I.  173 

We  both  felt  very  uncomfortable,  for  I 
could  see  that  Peep  was  quite  as  put  out  as 
I  was.  One  of  the  things  that  most  troubled 
me  was,  that  I  did  n't  like  to  keep  the  beauti- 
ful hood  and  cloak  Miss  Botterby  had  given 
me,  after  she  had  reproached  me  with  her 
gift ;  and  yet  I  hardly  knew  how  I  could  tell 
her  so.  But  at  last  1  got  up  courage  to  say  : 

"  I  would  rather  not  keep  these,  Miss  Bot- 
terby," and  I  began  taking  them  off  my 
doll. 

"  What  are  you  about  ?  Don't,  for  good- 
ness sake,  give  me  back  my  present  to  you. 
Ma  will  be  sure  to  notice  the  doll  has  n't  got 
them  on  when  you  go  to  take  leave  of  her ; 
and  then  all  will  come  out,  and  I  shall  be  just 
as  badly  off  as  ever." 

"  Give  'em  back,  Bab ! "  said  Peep. 

"  If  you  do,  I  shall  have  to  give  them  to 
Ledwick  to  take  'em  out  of  the  house  without 
ma  seeing  them ;  and  I  shall  have  to  manage 
for  you  to  go  away  without  taking  leave  of 
her." 

"  Manage  as  you  like  !  "  said  Peep. 


174  UNCLE.   PEEP,   AND   I. 

I  folded  up  the  beautiful  hood  and  cloak 
with  trembling  hands  and  gave  them  back  to 
Miss  Botterby,  saying,  — 

"  I  'm  very  sorry,  I  'm  very  sorry ;  it  was 
very  good  and  kind  of  you  to  give  them  to 
me,  —  but  I  must." 

She  snatched  them  from  me,  tucked  them 
hastily  under  the  shawl  that  was  muffled 
round  her  head  and  shoulders,  and  said,  — 

"  Oh,  nonsense  !  Sorry  !  sorry !  Why 
could  n't  you  have  done  what  I  asked  you  ? 
Sorry  !  Yes,  I  dare  say !  " 

"Indeed,  indeed,  I  am  sorry,  Miss  Bot- 
terby !  " 

But  she  did  n't  stay  to  listen  to  me ;  she 
walked  straight  into  the  house  and  into  the 
room  where  we  had  first  seen  Mrs.  Botterby. 

There  was  no  one  there,  and  Joe  came  for- 
ward to  his  young  mistress,  saying,  — 

"  If  you  please,  miss,  missus  has  gone  up- 
stairs to  lie  down  for  an  hour,  and  left  word 
she  wasn't  to  be  disturbed." 

"All  right,"  said'  Miss  Botterby,  with  her 
face  suddenly  clearing  up.  Then  turning  to 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  175 

Peep  and  me,  she  said,  "  Good-by !  It 's  all 
blown  over,  you  see ;  so  you  can  come  and 
see  me  another  day  as  soon  as  you  like,  and 
then  I  '11  show  you  how  to  play  at  croquet." 

We  took  leave  of  her,  walking  out  of  the 
tall  iron  gates  into  the  road  without  speaking 
a  word  to  each  other ;  but  when  we  turned 
into  a  shady  lane,  Peep  broke  silence  by 
saying,  — 

"  I  'm  so  glad  you  gave  her  back  her  pres- 
ent ;  I  could  n't  have  borne  you  to  keep  it." 

"  I  should  never  have  had  any  pleasure  in 
looking  at  it  again,  or  in  seeing  it  on  my 
dolly.  I  should  always  have  been  reminded 
of—" 

"  Yes  ;  you  'd  always  have  thought  of  Miss 
Almeria  Botterby  as  she  looked  while  cram- 
ming that  white  flower  under  the  mould. 
What  a  bad  face  she  has !  -  How  ugly  she 
looked  while  she  was  hiding  it  away  !  She  's 
not  only  a  rude  girl,  but  a  bad  girl ;  and  not 
only  a  bad  girl,  but  an  ugly  girl." 

"  Not  ugly,  Peep.  She  has  blue  eyes  and 
light  hair  and  very  pretty  pink  cheeks." 


176  UNCLE,   PEEP,    AND   I. 

"  I  don 't  care  what  eyes  and  hair  and 
cheeks  she  has ;  she  's  a  horribly  ugly  girl !  " 
We  talked  on  till  we  came  to  the  black- 
smith's forge,  where  we  stopped  for  a  mo- 
ment to  watch  some  horses  being  shod.  We 
noticed  that  the  old  coachman  we  had  seen 
before  was  standing  by,  watching  also.  He 
touched  his  hat  when  he  saw  us;  and  Peep 
said,  — 

"  Good  afternoon,  Stubbs !  " 
"  You  know  my  name,  young  master." 
"Yes,   Stubbs.      I   heard   Miss   Buckhurst 
call  you  so." 

"  She  and  Master  Jamie  went  off  of  their 
own  heads,  down  yon  lane,  while  I  stopped 
here  to  see  th'  horses  were  rightly  shod.  If 
you  're  going  that  way,  you  might  just  give 
a  look  after  young  master  and  miss.  Would 
you  be  so  good  ?  And  please  say  the  shoe- 
ing 's  wellnigh  done,  and  we  'd  better  be  jog- 
ging back  to  Buckhurst  Park.  They  ivould 
come  with  me  to-day,  though  I  said  I  had  to 
walk  th'  horses  here  and  back.  But  they  're 
main  fond  of  a  long  ramble  wi'  me,  bless 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND    I.  177 

their  little  hearts !  "Would  you  be  so  good, 
sir,  if  you  're  going  that  way  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  Stubbs ;  we  are  going  that 
way." 

I  rather  wondered  to  hear  Peep  say  this, 
as  we  had  n't  talked  of  going  down  the  lane 
that  turned  off  at  the  corner  where  Trebbitt's 
forge  was.  However,  I  supposed  he  had 
thought  of  going,  as  I  knew  he  liked  throw- 
ing stones  into  a  pond  that  was  there,  and 
making  "  ducks  and  drakes  "  with  them.  It 
was  a  shallow  pond,  shelving  down  from  the 
edge  at  one  side,  where  horses  were  taken  to 
water.  It  had  been  covered  with  ice  lately, 
when  a  good  deal  of  sliding  and  skating  had 
taken  place  on  it ;  but  since  the  last  few  days 
there  had  been  a  thaw,  and  the  ice  was  all 
gone. 

As  we  drew  near  the  spot  we  heard  loud 
shrieks  and  cries,  which  made  us  hurry  on  to 
see  what  was  the  matter.  To  our  great  dis- 
may we  saw  little  Miss  Buckhurst  and  Jamie 
up  to  their  knees  in  the  pond,  and  screaming 
wildly.  We  ran  forward,  and  she  called  out : 

12 


178  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND  I. 

"  Oh,  help  us  out !  help  us  out !  Jamie 
ventured  into  the  water  after  his  whip,  which 
had  dropped  in  and  floated  away ;  but  his 
feet  stuck  in  the  mud  and  he  could  n't  get 
back  again.  Then  I  waded  in  after  him  ;  but 
my  feet  stuck  too,  and  I  could  n't  move. 
I  could  only  hold  him  by  the  hand,  but 
could  n't  drag  him  out." 

"  Hold  his  hand  still !  Hold  it  fast !  Be 
sure  you  don't  let  it  go  !  "  I  cried.  "  Hold  it 
tight,  tight !  " 

I  looked  round,  and,  by  good  fortune,  saw 
a  large  long  pole  of  wood  lying  under  a  tree 
close  to  the  pond-side,  and  not  far  from  where 
Peep  and  I  stood.  I  told  him  to  help  me  to 
lift  it  up.  It  was  heavy,  but  not  too  heavy 
for  his  and  my  strength  put  together.  We 
raised  it  and  pushed  it  into  the  pond  as  near 
as  we  could  to  where  the  two  children  were 
standing,  shivering,  hand  in  hand. 

"  Put  out  the  hand  you  're  not  holding  your 
brother  by,  and  try  to  catch  hold  of  the 
pole,"  I  said. 

The  little  girl  seemed  quickly  to  understand 


UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND   I.  179 

what  I  wanted  her  to  do,  and  succeeded  in 
clutching  the  end  of  the  pole. 

"  Draw  it  to  you,  and  tell  your  brother  to 
put  his  other  hand  upon  it  too.  That 's  it ! 
Now,  both  of  you  hold  by  it,  and  it  '11  bear 
you  up  till  we  can  get  help.  Peep,  run  as 
fast  as  you  can  back  to  the  forge  and  tell 
Stubbs  and  Trebbitt  what  has  happened,  and 
fetch  them  here." 

While  Peep  ran  off,  I  watched  the  two 
children,  and  saw  that  the  pole  had  reached 
them  just  in  time,  for  they  had  fast  been 
getting  too  frightened  and  too  shivering  to 
have  been  able  to  hold  up  much  longer  by 
themselves.  I  spoke  cheerily  to  them,  and 
they  answered  more  and  more  cheerily  in  re- 
turn ;  so  that  by  the  time  the  men  came  from 
the  forge  they  were  quite  merry,  and  laugh- 
ing at  the  plight  they  were  in. 

They  were  soon  got  out  of  the  pond,  and 
we  all  hurried  back  to  the  forge,  that  their 
wet  clothes  might  be  thoroughly  dried  at  the 
blacksmith's  roaring  fire.  Polly  Trebbitt  and 
her  mother  made  themselves  very  useful  in 


180  UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND    I. 

giving  proper  attention  to  the  two  dripping 
children,  who  were  now  in  high  spirits  at 
their  adventure. 

"  If  Sir  James  comes  to  know  it,  though, 
it  '11  be  a  bad  job  for  me,"  said  Stubbs,  dole- 
fully. u  He  '11  never  let  me  take  you  out  for 
a  walk  again;  he'll  say  I  oughtn't  to  have 
let  you  out  of  my  sight,  and  so  I  ought  n't." 

"  It  was  we  who  would  go,"  said  Jamie. 

"  It 's  as  much  as  my  place  is  worth,  if  Sir 
James  comes  to  know  it,  any  how." 

"  He  must  know  it,  of  course.  I  shall  tell 
my  father  how  it  happened,  myself,  Stubbs; 
and  you  '11  see,  he  won't  be  angry  with  you 
when  he  knows  it  was  all  our  fault." 

"  All  your  fault,  Miss  Mabel  ?  No,  no,  it 
was  mine !  I  ought  to  ha'  known  better 
than  to  let  two  such  little  things  as  you  stray 
off  alone." 

"  Leave  it  to  me,  Stubbs.  I  shall  tell  my 
father  the  truth,  the  exact  truth ;  and  you  '11 
see  he  won't  be  angry.  He  never  is,  when  we 
tell  him  the  whole  truth.  And  he  won't  be 
angry  now,  when  Jamie  and  I  are  both  safe 


UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND    I.  181 

and  sound,  as  we  are  ;  because  of  your  help 
just  in  time,"  said  Mabel,  turning  to  Peep  and 
me. 

"  Thank  you  both  !     Oh,  thank  you ! " 

"  We  were  very  glad  to  be  there  to  help 
you." 

"  Very,  very  glad,"  said  Peep,  earnestly. 

"  I  do  think  you  saved  our  lives.  Thank 
you,  dear,  again  and  again,  for  your  good 
thought  of  the  pole.  You'll  let  me  call  you 
'  dear,'  won't  you  ?  "  she  said  to  me. 

"  Oh,  yes,  yes ;  and  thank  you  for  liking  to 
call  me  so." 

We  all  four  took  leave  of  each  other  very 
happily  and  affectionately ;  and  as  Peep  and 
I  walked  home  together,  he  said  to  me,  — 

"  Did  you  see  ho\y  sweet  her  eyes  looked, 
and  how  they  sparkled  when  she  thanked  us  ? 
How  pretty  she  is  !  how  very,  very  pretty  !  " 

"  She  looks  more  sweet  than  pretty,  I 
think." 

"  Oh,  both,  both  !  She  's  as  sweet  as  she  's 
pretty,  and  as  pretty  as  she 's  sweet.  She 
has  the  very  darlingest  face  I  ever  saw.  It 's 


182  UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND   I. 

even  darlinger  than  yours,  Bab ;  and  yet, 
yours  is  the  dearest  in  the  world  to  me.  I 
have  always  felt  I  had  rather  look  at  it  than 
at  any  other;  but  now  I  would  like  often  to 
look  at  hers  too.  Do  you  think  we  shall 
often  see  her  again  ?  I  could  n't  bear  to  think 
we  should  not  see  her  sometimes  again." 

"  I  don't  believe  we  shall  see  very  much  of 
her,  Peep.  You  know  her  father  and  mother 
are  Sir  James  and  Lady  Buckhurst,  and  they 
may  be  rather '  high  and  proud,'  and  not  care 
for  us  to  be  very  much  friends  with  their 
children." 

"  I  don't  think  Mabel's  father  and  mother 
can  be  (  high  and  proud  ; '  she  looks  so  gentle 
and  meek  and  sweet  herself.  Do  you  think 
she  would  like  you  to  call  her  'Mabel'?"  said 
Peep. 

"  I  'm  afraid  she  'd  think  it  too  —  too  —  " 

"  Too  intimate  ?  She  asked  you  to  let  her 
call  you  '  dear,'  you  know." 

"  Yes,  she  did ;  but,  if  you  notice,  I  did  n't 
ask  her  in  return  to  let  me  call  her  i  dear.' 
I  thought  she  might  n't  like  it ;  and  yet  that 


UNCLE,   PEEP,    AND   I.  183 

she  would  n't  like  to  tell  me  so,  for  fear  I 
might  be  hurt  by  what  she  said." 

"  I  can't  be  sure,  of  course ;  but  I  feel  some- 
how certain  she  would  n't  mind  being  called 
'  dear,'  by  you,  Bab." 

"  Perhaps  so ;  and  if  she  did  n't  mind  it,  I 
should  like  very  much  to  call  her  i  dear/  for 
she  is  —  very  dear." 

"  Very,  very  dear  !  "  said  Peep. 

Next  morning  the  postman  brought  a  let- 
ter to  the  door.  Sue  took  it  in,  and  brought 
it  to  me.  • 

"  It 's  for  Uncle,  I  suppose.  I  '11  put  it 
with  the  rest  of  his  letters,  that  have  come 
since  he  's  been  away." 

"  I  think  it 's  for  you,  miss." 

"  For  me,  Sue  ?  " 

"  Yes,  miss ;  look  at  it." 

It  was  directed  in  large  letters  —  letters  so 
big  and  so  clear  that  I  could  read  them  quite 
easily ;  and  I  saw  "  For  Bab  and  Peep  "  writ- 
ten upon  it,  with  "  Trafalgar  Lodge  "  under- 
neath. It  was  the  first  letter  we  had  ever 
received,  so  we  were  both  in  great  delight. 


184  UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I. 

Inside,  the  writing  was  very  big  and  clear 
also ;  therefore  I  could  make  out  every  word, 
and  I  read  the  letter  straight  through  to  Peep : 

DEAR  CHILDREN,  —  Your  Uncle  and  I  hope  to 
he  with  you  two  days  after  this  letter  reaches  you, 
as  I  am  now  getting  quite  well  and  strong  again. 
The  sea  has  done  us  both  great  good,  and  we  have 
enjoyed  being  out  all  day  on  the  beach  and  letting 
the  wind  blow  upon  our  cheeks.  Some  day  we 
hope  to  bring  you  two  with  us  here,  and  show  you 
the  sea  and  the  beach,  where  you  can  pick  up  shells, 
and  where  Peep  can  fill  his  wheelbarrow  with  sand 
and  beautiful  sea-weeds.  I  will  not  write  any 
more,  because  I  hope  to  tell  you  all  myself  when  I 
come  home.  So  good-by  till  then.  I  am 
Your  affectionate  aunt, 

PENELOPE  BRUFF. 

P.  S.  —  Uncle  sends  his  love  to  you  both,  and 
so  do  I. 

"  She  knows  about  my  wheelbarrow !  She 
must  be  a  nice  woman,  to  care  when  Uncle 
told  her  I  had  one.  I  suppose  she  asked 
whether  it  was  big  enough  to  hold  sand  and 
sea-weed.  What  a  heap  I  will  pile  up  in  it !  " 


UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND    I.  185 

I  told  Sue  the  good  news  that  Uncle  and 
his  wife  were  soon  coming  home ;  and  she 
helped  me  to  arrange  the  rooms  with  holly 
and  evergreens,  to  make  the  house  look 
pretty  and  seem  to  welcome  them  with 
brightness. 

"  It 's  fit  a  bride  should  find  her  new  home 
at  its  very  neatest  and  nicest,"  said  Sue,  "and 
we  '11  make  it  so  all  we  can,  won't  we  ?  It 
shall  be  in  apple-pie  order,  I  warrant !  " 

When  everything  was  burnished  to  its  ut- 
most everywhere,  I  went  into  the  room  that 
was  meant  for  their  own,  and  on  the  white 
frilled  muslin  covering  that  Sue  had  put  over 
the  toilet-table,  I  placed  the  half-knitted 
stocking,  needles,  and  ball  of  cotton,  —  just 
as  they  had  been  given  to  me,  —  in  the  midst 
of  a  wreath  of  ivy  with  its  dark  purple  ber- 
ries and  shining  green  leaves,  which  I  had 
made  myself. 


186  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND  I. 


CHAPTER  Xm. 

|N  the  day  Uncle  and  our  new  aunt 
were  expected  home,  it  was  all 
that  Peep  and  I  could  do  to  keep 
still.  We  were  perpetually  run- 
ning out  into  the  garden  and  down  to  the 
gate,  that  we  might  hear  the  very  first  sound 
of  wheels ;  for  we  knew  that  they  would 
come  in  a  coach,  on  account  of  the  trunks 
and  bandboxes  they  had  to  bring  from  the 
seaside  where  they  had  been  staying.  At 
last,  just  as  we  had  almost  given  up  listening 
and  looking  out,  and  were  sitting  down  to 
have  some  lunch  that  Sue  had  persuaded  us 
to  eat,  lest  we  should  be  too  hungry  if  we 
waited  any  longer  for  them,  there  came  a  dis- 
tant rumble  along  the  road,  a  sudden  stop  at 
the  gate,  and  out  we  both  darted  to  meet 
them.  Not  only  Uncle,  but  his  wife,  gave  us 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  187 

many  hearty  kisses  and  hugs,  and  we  all  went 
trooping  into  the  house  together,  a  merry, 
laughing,  joyful  party. 

"  I  'm  glad  to  see  something  on  the  table 
ready  to  eat,"  said  Uncle,  rubbing  his  hands, 
"  for  our  journey  has  made  us  as  hungry  as 
hunters.  Come,  Mrs.  Bruff,  my  dear,  take 
your  place  at  the  head  of  the  table  at  once, 
and  do  the  honors  for  us." 

She  sat  down  quietly,  easily,  just  as  if  she 
had  been  accustomed  to  sit  there  always,  and 
smiled  round  upon  us  all  so  pleasantly  that 
we  did  not  feel  the  least  strange  or  uncom- 
fortable at  finding  some  one  new  among  our 
family  party.  I  had  never  seen  Uncle  look 
so  bright,  or  so  alive  to  what  was  passing 
round  him,  before  ;  he  never  fell  into  silences, 
or  seemed  unnoticing,  once  while  the  meal 
was  going  on ;  and  when  it  was  over,  instead 
of  turning  round  his  chair  and  staring  into 
the  fire,  he  looked  at  his  wife  and  asked  her 
if  she  were  tired,  and  whether  she  would  n't 
go  upstairs  and  take  her  bonnet  off,  and  take 
a  rest. 


188  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

"  Little  Bab,  here,  shall  go  with  you  and 
show  you  your  room.  You  don't  know  what 
a  capital  little  manager  she  is,  though  she  is 
such  a  mite." 

"Yes,  I  think  I  do;  I  have  seen  before 
now  how  capitally  she  manages  when  she  has 
only  herself  to  rely  upon,  and  is  nursing  some 
one  she  is  fond  of.  We  know  something  of 
each  other  already,  Bab  ;  don't  we  ?  " 

She  put  her  arm  round  me  as  she  spoke 
and  drew  me  close  to  her,  keeping  me  so  even 
while  we  went  up  the  stairs  together,  chatting 
quietly  to  me  all  the  time. 

"I  was  some  comfort  to  you,  my  child, 
when  you  were  in  trouble  about  your  little 
brother ;  and  now,  Bab,  you  do  not  know,  you 
cannot  know,  the  great,  great  comfort  you 
are  to  me." 

"  I,  Miss  Ki  —  I  mean  Mrs  —  " 

"  Aunty,  —  Aunty  Pen !  Call  me  so  always 
now,  my  dear." 

"  Yes,  Aunty  ;  but  I  don't  know  how  I  can 
be  a  comfort  to  you.  I  ?  I  ?  " 

"  I   told   you   you   could   not   know,  Bab. 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  189 

How  should  you  understand  what  an  immense 
comfort  your  young  artless  ways,  your  pretty 
childish  liking  for  me,  your  mere  little  genu- 
ine self  here,  is  to  me  on  my  coming  home 
first  to  my  new  life  ?  No  ;  you  do  not  know, 
—  you  cannot  know  !  " 

She  spoke  this  as  if  more  to  herself  than 
to  me,  though  she  fixed  her  eyes  on  mine, 
looking  down  at  me  as  we  went  up  the  stairs 
together,  so  that  I  can  quite  well  remember 
the  exact  words  she  said. 

"  Well,  I  think  I  do  begin  to  know  a  little 
what  you  mean,  Miss  —  Aunty.  I  can  fancy 
that  somebody  —  even  such  a  very  young 
somebody  as  I  am  —  must  be  a  sort  of  com- 
fort to  you  to  find  already  in  the  house  where 
you  come  to  live  for  the  first  time  and  for  all 
the  rest  of  your  life.  Yes,  I  think  I  do  begin 
to  understand.  It  makes  you  feel  not  quite 
so  much  a  stranger  as  you  might  have  done 
if  Peep  and  I  were  not  here,  —  Peep  and  I 
that  you  helped  in  our  trouble,  you  know." 

By  the  time  I  had  said  this,  we  had  en- 
tered the  room  which  was  to  be  her  own,  and 


190  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

I  saw  her  eyes  at  once  fasten  upon  the  unfin- 
ished knitting  that  lay  on  the  white  muslin 
toilet-cover  in  the  midst  of  the  wreath  of 
green  leaves. 

"  You  guess  what  it  is  ? "  I  whispered. 
"  Mrs.  Hodgkin  gave  it  to  me  to  give  to  you ; 
she  kept  it  safely  for  you,  and'  sent  it  you 
through  me." 

I  saw  her  turn  very  pale,  and  her  eyes 
filled  with  tears ;  but  she  said  in  a  quiet,  low 
voice,  — 

"  Yes,  that  evening ;  I  recollect  it  was  left 
when  —  yes,  I  recollect.  I  like  it  to  come  to 
me  through  you,  my  little  Bab,  my  tender- 
hearted little  Bab,  who  knows,  like  me,  what 
it  is  to  have  lost  a  mother,  a  dear,  dear 
mother ;  don't  you,  darling  ?  " 

I  nodded  gently,  kissed  her  as  she  sat  down 
near  the  toilet-table,  and  then  crept  out  of 
the  room  as  softly  as  I  could. 

I  found  Uncle  and  Peep  at  high  romps 
when  I  went  down  into  the  parlor,  —  Uncle 
chasing  Peep  round  the  room,  scampering 
and  laughing  with  him  in  a  way  that  I  had 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  191 

never  seen  before,  as  if  he  enjoyed  the  fun 
himself,  instead  of  hardly  ever  noticing  either 
of  us.  I  joined  in  the  game,  so  that  when 
Aunt  Pen  came  downstairs  she  was  amused 
to  see  the  bustle  and  hear  the  uproar  that 
was  going  on.  Her  face  was  smiling  and 
calm,  but  it  looked  still  rather  white.  Uncle 
observed  this  directly,  and  said,  — 

"  I  'm  afraid  the  journey  has  fatigued  you, 
my  Penn'orth ;  you  must  n't  overdo  it,  you 
know ;  you  're  not  quite  strong  yet.  Re- 
member it 's  a  bargain ;  you  promised  me  to 
rest  whenever  you  felt  tired." 

"  Yes,  I  remember.  1  'm  going  to  rest  by 
sitting  in  this  nice  easy-chair  and  telling  the 
children  a  story,  if  they  would  like  to  hear 


one." 


"  Oh,  a  story  !  a  story  !  "  exclaimed  both 
Peep  and  I.  "  We  do  love  to  hear  a  story  !  " 

"We  '11  all  listen,"  said  Uncle,  as  he  drew 
a  chair  beside  his  wife,  while  Peep  and  I  set- 
tled ourselves  on  the  rug  at  her  feet. 

"  Why  do  you  call  her  <  Penn'orth,'  Uncle  ?" 
said  Peep,  suddenly.  "I  thought  her  name 


192  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

was  Penelope.  It  used  to  be  Miss  Penelope 
King ;  and  now,  I  suppose  it 's  Mrs.  Penelope 
Bruff." 

"  Well,  so  it  is,  my  boy ;  but  Pen  's  short 
for  Penelope,  and  I  make  it  into  Penn'orth, 
because  she  's  a  good  pennyworth  to  me." 

We  all  laughed  heartily  at  Uncle 's  way  of 
saying  this,  till  Peep  broke  in  with,  — 

"  Hush  !  Don't  let 's  laugh  any  more  and 
lose  time.  Let 's  have  the  story." 

"  What  kind  of  a  story  shall  it  be  ?  What 
is  it  to  be  about  ?  " 

"  About  lions  and  tigers,"  said  Peep.  "  Or, 
no,  —  stay ;  let  it  be  about  kings  and  queens 
and  genies  and  Sinbads  and  Aladdins  and 
forty  thieves  and  wicked  enchanters,  —  such 
as  father  used  to  tell  us  when  he  took  us  on 
his  knee." 

"  An  Eastern  story  ?  Well,  then,  once 
upon  a  time  —  " 

"  What 's  the  name  of  the  story,  Aunt 
Pen  ?  " 

" '  The  story  of  Prince  Zaraf  and  his 
Mother/  and  it  begins :  Once  upon  a  time 


UNCLE,   PEEP,    AND   I.  193 

there  was  a  king  called  Gordubar,  who  had  a 
wife  called  Azuralma  and  a  little  son  called 
Prince  Zaraf.  This  king  was  a  proud,  impe- 
rious man,  who  could  n't  bear  to  be  contra- 
dicted in  anything  he  said  or  did  or  ordered." 

"  What's  '  imperious '  ?  "  said  Peep. 

"  Oh,  Peep,  don't  interrupt !  "  I  said. 

" ( Imperious  '  means  commanding,  domi- 
neering, too  fond  of  having  his  own  way. 
Unfortunately,  Prince  Zaraf  took  more  after 
his  father  than  his  mother,  who  was  gentle 
and  very  forbearing.  The  little  prince  would 
throw  himself  into  violent  rages  if  he  were 
thwarted  in  the  slightest  thing  he  wished,  and 
he.  liked  to  have  his  own  way,  right  or  wrong. 
He  would  even  burst  into  fits  of  passion  and 
resist  his  own  father,  if  King  Gordubar  would 
not  let  him  have  something  he  wanted,  and 
would  storm  and  rave  and  stamp  about  the 
room  like  a  little  fury.  This  brought  father 
and  son  into  many  an  unseemly  anger  against 
each  other,  which  the  good,  gentle  queen  tried 
in  vain  to  appease ;  but  while  Prince  Zaraf 

was  still  very  young,  he  had  a  severe  lesson 

13 


194  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND  I. 

which  for  a  time  made  him  try  to  keep 
watch  over  his  temper  lest  it  should  have  the 
fatal  effect,  in  his  own  case,  which  to  his  dis- 
may he  beheld  it  have  in  his  father's. 

"It  chanced  that  Gordubar's  vizier,  or 
prime  minister,  was  a  very  sage,  prudent,  be- 
nevolent man,  who  had  deeply  at  heart  the 
welfare  of  his  royal  master's  subjects,  and  for 
whose  sake  he  would  venture  even  to  oppose 
the  will  of  the  king  himself,  when  it  decided 
upon  any  measure  which  the  minister  thought 
was  contrary  to  the  interests  of  the  people. 
Once  it  so  happened  that  King  Gordubar  gave 
an  order  to  his  army  which  appeared  to  the 
vizier,  Verasmin,  so  extremely  unjust  and  in- 
jurious toward  the  peaceful  citizens  and  peas- 
ants of  the  kingdom  that  he  boldly  repre- 
sented to  the  monarch  the  mischief  that  would 
follow  if  his  order  were  carried  out,  and  be- 
sought him  to  reconsider  his  commands.  En- 
raged to  be  thus  opposed,  Gordubar  roughly 
bade  his  wise  counsellor  immediately  see  that 
the  royal  order  was  fulfilled,  and  take  heed 
how  he  hesitated  or  disobeyed.  Verasmin 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  195 

replied  firmly  that  he  owed  obedience  to  his 
sovereign,  but  that  he  owed  a  duty  also  to  the 
people,  whom  he  would  not  see  tyrannically 
treated  without  at  least  trying  to  persuade  the 
king  to  reverse  his  decree.  From  roughness 
and  contempt  Gordubar  proceeded  to  insolence 
and  insult,  overwhelming  his  good  minister 
with  foul  words  and  threats,  until,  in  the  very 
midst  of  his  storm  of  wrath,  the  king  sud- 
denly fell  back,  stone  dead,  having  broken  a 
blood-vessel  by  his  intemperate  rage.  Queen 
Azuralma  hoped  that  out  of  this  terrible 
calamity  might  come  useful  warning  to  her 
young  son ;  that  he  might  learn  to  curb  his 
own  disposition  ere  the  time  came  when  he 
should  have  to  reign  in  his  father's  stead ; 
and  meantime,  by  her  own  gentle  wisdom, 
aided  by  the  sage  experience  and  prudence 
of  Verasmin,  she  governed  the  kingdom  as 
regent.  For  a  while,  the  example  of  his 
father's  fate  acted  well  upon  Prince  Zaraf; 
but  after  a  time  he  fell  into  his  old  habit 
of  going  into  furious  fits  of  anger  whenever 
he  was  contradicted  or  disappointed.  Once 


196  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

when  he  was  giving  way  to  one  of  these  ve- 
hement outbreaks  his  mother  unexpectedly 
came  into  the  apartment  where  he  was.  She 
went  straight  up  to  where  he  stood  fuming 
and  raging,  and  laying  her  hand  softly  upon 
his  arm,  she  said,  — 

"  '  Alas !  my  son,  I  see  that  even  the  dire- 
ful scene  you  once  beheld  has  ceased  to  have 
controlling  effect.  But  if  that  fail  to  move 
you  to  self-correction,  let  what  I  am  now 
going  to  tell  you  have  force  to  cure  you  of 
your  malady  of  temper.  Know,  that  should 
you  ever  suffer  yourself  to  give  way  to  such 
fatal  excess  of  anger  as  shall  cause  me  equally 
fatal  excess  of  grief,  it  will  cast  me  into  the 
power  of  a  great  enchanter,  who  will  carry  me 
away  beyond  your  reach.  I  shall  fall  into 
his  power,  and  it  will  be  you,  my  own  son, 
my  dearest  Zaraf,  who  will  have  brought  this 
misery  of  separation  upon  us  both.' 

"  The  prince,  shocked  and  sobered,  prom- 
ised his  mother,  with  tears  of  repentance,  to 
try  to  obtain  better  control  of  his  passionate 
disposition;  and  for  a  long  period  he  sue- 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  197 

ceeded  in  gaining  some  mastery  over  it.  The 
years  passed  by,  and  the  boy  grew  into  the 
youth,  and  the  youth  into  the  young  man ; 
when,  just  as  he  attained  the  age  to  reign,  his 
sage  minister,  the  Vizier  Yerasmin,  died,  leav- 
ing the  young  prince  to  mount  the  throne 
with  none  to  guide  and  assist  him  save  the 
queen-mother,  Azuralma.  Her  gentle  advice, 
her  lenient  counsels,  were  of  great  avail,  and 
King  Zaraf  governed  well  and  justly,  and 
became  popular  with  his  subjects. 

"  On  one  occasion,  however,  a  Numidian 
slave  of  his,  whom  he  had  trusted  with  some 
grave  charge,  misunderstood  his  orders  and 
caused  a  favorite  plan  of  King  Zaraf's  to  fail. 
In  a  frenzy  of  wrath  to  see  his  views  frus- 
trated, he  commanded  the  slave  to  be  forth- 
with strangled ;  and  though  the  wretched 
man  pleaded  mistake,  not  wilful  disobedience 
or  guilt,  Zaraf  persisted  in  his  command. 
Azuralma,  hearing  of  this  stern  sentence,  has- 
tened to  her  son's  presence  and  entreated 
him  to  withdraw  it,  pleading  hard  to  have  the 
miserable  slave's  life  spared,  and  seeking  to 


198  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

move  her  son  to  mercy  by  telling  him  that 
this  slave  had  long  been  a  faithful  and  devoted 
servitor.  But  Zaraf  was  in  too  great  a  tu- 
mult of  foiled  will  and  enraged  resentment 
to  listen  even  to  her,  and  he  turned  angrily 
away  to  enforce  immediate  execution  of  his 
command.  At  that  moment  a  thick  gray 
mist  filled  the  whole  of  the  presence-chamber 
where  the  court  were  assembled,  and  where 
Zaraf  was  giving  way  to  his  cruel  and  ungov- 
ernable fury.  Appalled  by  the  sudden  veil- 
ing of  the  light,  he  looked  round  and  dimly 
saw  a  gigantic  figure  extend  its  hand  over 
Queen  Azuralma's  head,  who,  casting  sad, 
despairing  looks  at  her  son  to  the  last,  was 
wafted  away  from  his  sight.  Zaraf  fell  to  the 
ground  in  a  deadly  swoon,  from  which  he  was 
with  difficulty  recovered  by  his  attendants; 
but  as  soon  as  his  senses  were  restored,  he 
sent  out  guards  in  every  direction  to  seek  his 
mother,  and  endeavor  to  discover  what  had 
become  of  her  and  whither  she  had  been,  con- 
veyed. No  trace  of  her,  however,  could  be 
found ;  and  it  was  whispered  that  those  who 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  199 

went  in  search  of  her  never  returned,  but 
were  carried  away  also.  A  mystery,  a  dread 
uncertainty  as  to  the  disappearance  of  the 
queen-mother  and  of  those  who  were  sent 
in  pursuit  of  her,  seemed  to  prevail  among 
the  general  court ;  and  as  for  King  Zaraf,  he 
was  completely  overwhelmed  by  his  loss,  and 
stricken  down  by  sorrow.  He  remained  se- 
cluded in  his  own  chamber,  prostrate  body  and 
mind ;  for  his  deep  dejection  brought  on  sick- 
ness, and  he  was  really  ill  and  unable  to  move." 

"  My  dear  Penn'orth,  you  will  have  to  break 
off  your  storv,"  sa'd  Uncle,  "for  here's  Sue 
come  to  lay  the  cloth  for  dinner,  and  I  won't 
have  you  overtire  yourself  by  talking  too 
much  at  a  time." 

"  I  hope  Aunt  Pen  won't  be  too  tired  to 
begin  again  after  dinner,"  said  Peep.  "  I  do 
so  want  to  hear  the  rest  of  the  story." 

"We  must  see  how  she  feels;  she  's  had  a 
long  journey  to-day,  you  know,  Peep." 

"  Ay,  ay,  my  little  Bab,  well  said  !  We  '11 
see  about  it,  won't  we  ?  We  '11  not  let  her  do 
too  much,  will  we  ?  "  said  Uncle. 


200  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

FTER  dinner,  when  Aunt  Pen  was 
comfortably  arranged  again  by  the 
fire,   and   we   had   all    taken   our 
places  round  her,  she  went  on  with 
her  story. 

"  For  a  long  time  the  young  King  Zaraf  lay 
in  this  state  of  misery  and  restless  pain ;  for 
he  could  not  rest,  though  he  was  unable  to 
get  up  and  move  about.  He  tossed  to  and 
fro,  racked  by  the  memory  that  it  was  his  own 
rash  ungovernable  temper  which  had  caused 
his  fondly  loved  mother  to  be  torn  from  him. 
" '  She  warned  me !  She  told  me  what 
would  be  the  consequence  !  She  warned  me  ! 
She  warned  me  !  ' 

"  This  was  one  of  the  thoughts  that  per- 
petually stung  him  with  remorse.  Another 
was,  — 


UNCLE,   PEEP,  AND   I.  201 

"  (  Where  is  she  ?  Whither  has  she  been 
spirited  away  ?  Where,  where  is  she  ?  Oh, 
where,  where  is  she  ? ' 

"  Then  he  would  fling  himself  round  in 
tortured,  baffled  longing  and  fruitless  desire 
to  again  behold  her. 

"  At  length,  after  a  weary  night  of  such  im- 
patient repinings,  towards  morning  he  fell 
into  a  quieter  slumber  than  any  he  had  en- 
joyed of  late,  from  which  he  awoke  in  a  soft- 
ened mood,  and  with  a  strange  feeling  of 
peace  and  submission.  He  looked  languidly 
round  his  sick-room ;  the  watch-lights  were 
burning  low,  the  attendants  had  fallen  asleep, 
the  half-darkness  of  the  apartment  was 
broken  by  a  slanting  ray  of  pale  light  that 
came  from  between  the  heavy  folds  of  a  rich 
curtain  drawn  before  the  window,  showing 
him  that  the  dawn  was  at  hand.  An  uncon- 
querable wish  to  go  and  seek  his  mother  him- 
self at  once  came  upon  him,  and  he  rose  from 
his  bed,  threw  on  some  wrapping  garment 
that  lay  near,  and  went  quietly  towards  a  com- 
municating passage  that  led  up  from  his  own 


202  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

apartments  into  those  which  his  mother  had 
formerly  occupied.  On  entering  the  chamber 
where  he  had  so  often  stood  beside  her  knee 
and  told  her  his  childish  troubles  when  a  boy, 
and  where  he  had  so  often  received  her  ca- 
resses and  comforting  words,  her  soothing 
advice,  her  gentle  and  wise  admonitions,  Zaraf 
melted  into  tears,  and  stood  for  some  moments 
wrapped  in  tender  recollections.  Suddenly 
his  attention  was  attracted  towards  a  small 
door,  not  far  from  the  bed's  head,  —  a  door 
which  he  had  never  observed  there  before. 
He'went  towards  it,  opened  it,  and  perceived, 
by  the  dim  light  that  pervaded  the  room  and 
even  penetrated  within  this  small  door,  that 
there  was  a  narrow  winding  staircase  leading 
upward,  he  knew  not  whither.  He  ascended 
the  steps,  and,  on  reaching  their  summit,  found 
himself  in  a  long  gallery,  with  a  range  of  win- 
dows on  one  side  that  looked  out  upon  a  fine 
expanse  of  scenery  which  surrounded  the 
palace.  The  dawning  light  was  gaining, 
gaining,  and  the  whole  landscape  was  suf- 
fused with  a  soft  roseate  hue  blended  with 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  203 

the  pale  blue  of  the  sky,  amid  which  the  fast- 
disappearing  stars  and  the  slender  silver  bow 
of  a  waning  moon  were  just  faintly  visible. 
He  looked  forth  on  the  fair  view,  and  his 
heart  softened  more  and  more. 

"  t  Oh,  if  I  could  but  find  her,  —  could  but 
kno\v,  at  least,  where  she  is  ! ' 

"  He  sighed  deeply  as  he  murmured  these 
words  under  his  breath,  and  turned  from  the 
window  to  pursue  his  way  along  the  gallery, 
at  the  farther  end  of  which  he  perceived 
another  door.  On  passing  through  this  he 
came  to  corridor  after  corridor,  leading 
through  a  succession  of  side  rooms  that 
seemed  deserted  and  dismantled,  and  through 
diverging-  smaller  passages  with  apparently 
more  disused  rooms  on  either  side, — a  per- 
plexing labyrinth  of  places  he  had  never 
seen  in  this  out-of-the-way  uppermost  story 
of  his  own  palace.  At  last  he  came  to  an- 
other long  gallery,  at  the  termination  of 
which  he  saw  a  golden  door,  stately,  superb, 
and  magnificently  wide.  He  went  eagerly 
towards  it,  yet  with  a  certain  feeling  of 


204  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

awe  and  trembling  expectation.  The  door 
yielded  to  his  hand,  and  he  entered.  He 
beheld  a  spacious  chamber,  lofty,  vast,  and 
hung  round  with  azure  and  fleecy  folds  of 
pure  white." 

"  What 's  azure  ?  "  whispered  Peep. 

"  Oh,  Peep,  dorit  interrupt !  l Azure'  means 
blue,"  I  said. 

"  Across  the  centre  of  this  chamber  there 
was  a  strong  grating  of  iron  bars,"  continued 
Aunt  Pen  ;  "  and  behind  this  grating  Zaraf 
saw  his  dear  mother,  with  her  sad,  gentle  eyes 
bent  upon  him,  as  he  sprang  forward  with  a 
fond  exclamation  of  joy  to  try  and  clasp  her 
in  his  arms.  But  the  strong  iron  bars  were 
there ;  and  beside  her  stood  a  grim  figure, 
gigantic,  all-powerful,  with  outstretched  arm 
that  seemed  to  hold  her  spellbound, — a  figure 
in  dusky  robes,  with  dry  bones  and  a  cruel 
face.  Making  one  wild  dash  against  the  bars, 
and  finding  he  could  not  force  his  way  through 
them,  Zaraf  rushed  out  of  the  chamber  to  get 
help,  shouting  for  his  guards  and  attendants 
to  come  and  beat  down  the  iron  grating. 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  205 

As  he  flew  back  along  the  gallery,  he  heard 
the  golden  door  close  behind  him  with  a 
deep  clanging  noise,  and  when  his  guards 
came  in  answer  to  the  young  king's  cries 
there  was  no  golden  door  to  be  seen.  In  vain 
he  sought,  in  vain  every  effort  was  made  to 
discover  this  door,  in  vain  search  was  dili- 
gently pursued  along  each  corridor  and  pas- 
sage that  Zaraf  thought  he  had  passed 
through.  Even  he  himself  could  not  retrace 
his  way  with  any  certainty,  and  even  to  him 
they  appeared  unlike  what  they  were  when 
he  had  first  traversed  them.  Distracted,  be- 
wildered, he  wandered  to  and  fro,  endeavor- 
ing to  lead  his  followers,  but  failing  utterly 
in  his  attempt. 

"  He  sank  again  into  a  state  of  morbid  in- 
action and  despondency.  He  neglected  State 
affairs,  and  left  his  kingdom  to  be  ruled  as 
best  it  might.  Fortunately,  to  Verasmin  had 
succeeded  as  vizier  a  son  scarcely  less  well 
qualified  than  the  father ;  so  that,  notwith- 
standing the  young  monarch's  neglect,  the 
public  welfare  was  still  cared  for. 


206  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

"  An  interval  elapsed,  when  in  the  dead  of 
the  night,  in  profound  darkness,  Zaraf  felt 
himself  irresistibly  impelled  to  creep  up  to 
his  mother's  old  apartments  and  kneel  beside 
the  bed  where  she  had  lain.  He  groped  his 
way  softly  up  the  communicating  passage, 
and  knelt  down  in  an  humble,  childlike,  trust- 
ing way.  He  had  often  come  to  this  room  in 
daylight,  but  never  could  he  find  the  small 
door  near  the  bed.  Now,  when  he  raised  his 
head,  after  his  devout  humility  of  supplica- 
tion, he  saw  a  ray  of  moonlight  pierce  the 
darkness  and  shed  its  silvery  beam  on  the 
very  door  he  sought.  He  rose  with  beating 
heart  and  went  towards  it,  passing  readily 
through,  up  the  narrow  winding  staircase, 
and  finding  himself  once  more  in  the  long 
gallery  with  the  range  of  windows  on  one 
side,  from  which  he  now  gazed  upon  a  scene 
of  exquisite  splendor,  —  the  whole  landscape 
bathed  in  the  soft  yet  brilliant  moonshine. 
But  he  hurried  on,  and  to  his  inexpressible 
delight  he  found  himself  again  threading  the 
same  maze  of  corridors,  passages,  and  side 


UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND   I.  207 

rooms  as  before,  until  he  reached  the  upper- 
most gallery,  where  at  its  farther  end  he 
saw  —  oh,  joy  !  —  the  stately  golden  door. 
Again  it  yielded  to  his  hand,  and  again  on 
entering  he  beheld  the  azure  chamber,  with 
its  fleecy  hangings  of  pure  white,  its  grating 
of  iron  bars,  behind  which  still  was  there  his 
dear  mother,  while  beside  her  stood  the  dusky- 
robed,  grim,  giant  figure  with  its  outstretched 
bony  arm  and  cruel  face.  The  young  king 
cast  himself  on  the  ground,  mutely,  with 
clasped  hands,  and  with  beseeching  eyes  fas- 
tened upon  hers,  which  regarded  him  with 
tender,  undying  affection. 

" e  Zaraf,  my  son,  it  is  permitted  me  to 
speak  to  you ;  be  contented  with  thus  much 
of  comfort.  So  long  as  you  are  in  softened 
mood,  so  long  as  you  are  patient,  submissive, 
trying  to  perfect  your  imperfect  nature  and 
raise  it  into  better  and  worthier  condition, 
so  long  will  you  be  permitted  to  find  your 
way  to  the  golden  door,  to  enter  the  azure 
chamber,  to  hold  converse  with  your  mother 
who  loves  you,  who  watches  over  you  with 


208  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND  I. 

no  less  fondness  than  of  old.     Farewell  for 
the  present,  and  remember ! ' 

"As  she  uttered  the  last  words,  her  form  and 
that  of  the  grim  figure  seemed  to  fade  from 
before  the  eyes  of  Zaraf,  the  azure  chamber 
became  indistinct  and  unsolid,  and  he  sank 
down  senseless.  Many  times  after  this  the 
young  king  quietly  sought  and  found  the 
golden  door,  holding  in  the  azure  chamber 
much  converse  with  his  mother,  whose  gentle 
advice  and  wise  counsels  aided  him  to  govern 
well  and  nobly.  He  grew  thoughtful  for  his 
people,  benevolent  towards  them,  and  greatly 
patient  with  their  errors.  It  befell  that  a  great 
pestilence  visited  his  kingdom,  and  Zaraf  not 
only  took  measures  to  prevent  as  much  as 
possible  the  extension  of  the  evil,  but  he 
gave  personal  inspection  and  tendance  to  the 
sufferers.  This  ended  in  his  taking  the  mal- 
ady himself,  and  he  lay  in  his  own  room  sick 
almost  unto  death.  The  chief  suffering  of 
which  he  was  conscious  was  an  aching  desire 
to  have  strength  enough  for  dragging  himself 
up  to  his  mother  in  the  azure  chamber ;  but 


UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND   I.  209 

his  weary,  fever-worn  limbs  forbade  the  hope 
each  time  he  made  an  attempt  to  leave  his 
bed;  and  at  length  he  gave  up  even  this  idea, 
and  quietly  surrendered  himself  to  mere  pas- 
sive lying  there,  thinking  tenderly,  gratefully, 
placidly  of  her  who  had  been  his  guardian 
angel  through  life,  and  now  became  his  sole 
happiness  of  thought.  The  heat  and  glare  of 
the  noonday  sun  had  been  screened  from  the 
apartment  by  cool  green  outer  shutters  and 
rich  thick  curtains  within ;  but  suddenly  Zaraf 
became  aware  of  a  bland  glory  of  light  that 
spread  around  him,  and  as  he  turned  his  eyes 
towards  its  centre,  he  beheld,  at  a  few  paces 
from  his  bedside,  the  golden  door  in  all  its 
stately  magnificence.  He  mustered  what  slight 
remaining  strength  he  had,  and  threw  himself 
from  his  couch  in  a  transport  of  joy,  find- 
ing the  golden  portal  yield  like  lightest  down 
to  his  touch.  There,  within,  was  the  azure 
chamber,  the  fleecy  purity  of  cloudlike  hang- 
ings, the  grating  of  iron  bars,  and  the  gentle 
mother  with  her  eyes  of  love,  now  radiantly 
happy,  and  her  face  beaming  with  an  ecstasy 

14 


210  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

of  welcome.  The  giant  figure  was  also  there ; 
but  the  dusky  robes  looked  mere  soft,  gray, 
shadowy  folds  of  drapery,  and  the  face,  no 
longer  cruel,  wore  a  less  frightful  aspect. 
Zaraf  staggered  forward,  faltering  out,  — 

"  i  Mother,  beloved  mother !  Not  so  much 
do  I  now  desire  to  have  thee  back,  as  to  corne 
myself  to  thee ! ' 

"  The  bars  melted  before  him,  he  reached 
his  mother's  breast,  and  they  were  folded  in 
each  other's  embrace  nevermore  to  part." 

Aunt  Pen  paused,  and  we  were  all  for  some 
moments  silent.  Then  Peep  drew  a  long 
breath,  and  said, — 

"I'm  glad!" 

"  Glad  Zaraf  and  his  mother  are  together 
again  at  last,  or  glad  the  story  has  come  to  an 
end,  my  boy?  " 

"  Oh,  Uncle,  you  know  which !  You  know 
I  'm  glad  Zaraf  grew  good  and  found  his 
mother  forever.  I  like  stories  to  end  happily, 
and  this  story  does." 

"  Yes,"  I  said. 

"Yes,  it  ends  happily/'   said   both   Uncle 


UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND    I.  211 

and  Aunt  Pen,  softly.  "And  now  I  think 
our  young  folk  ought  to  be  travelling  to- 
wards Bedfordshire,  oughtn't  they?"  said 
Uncle  in  a  cheery  tone,  after  he  and  Aunty 
had  been  looking  into  the  fire  for  a  little 
while. 

Whereupon  Peep  and  I  gave  both  of  them 
a  hug  and  a  kiss  and  a  "  good  night,"  and 
thanking  Aunt  Pen  for  her  story,  we  went  off 
to  bed. 

Next  morning  we  had  a  bright,  merry 
breakfast;  and  after  Uncle  had  gone  away 
to  town,  Aunt  Pen  showed  us  some  pretty 
picture-books  that  he  and  she  had  brought 
from  the  seaside  for  us.  She  first  told  us 
about  the  pictures  in  them,  and  then  asked  us 
if  we  could  read  the  nice  large  print  of  the 
stories  in  the  books.  Peep  hung  his  head, 
then  looked  up  briskly,  and  said,  — 

"  Bab  can  !  " 

"  Only  a  very  little.  I  can  only  read  when 
the  letters  are  very  big." 

"  Would  you  like  to  be  able  to  read  big 
letters,  like  Bab,  Peep  ?  And  would  you,  Bab, 


212  UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND    I. 

like  to  read  small  letters  as  well  as  big 
ones?" 

"  That  I  should !  "  both  of  us  said  at  once. 

"  Then  I  will  teach  you,  dears.  We  '11  have 
nice  little  reading-lessons  every  morning  as 
soon  as  Uncle  goes  away  to  town  after  break- 
fast, so  that  we  shall  be  able  to  surprise  him 
some  day  with  the  pleasure  of  hearing  you 
each  read  a  story  to  him  out  of  the  books  he 
has  brought  you." 

"  Oh,  that  will  be  nice  !  Would  you  begin 
to  teach  us  at  once,  Aunt  Pen  ?  To-day,  — 
this  very  morning  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Bab  ;  and  I  '11  begin  with  Peep.  So 
you  can  take  your  doll's  work,  and  make 
her  a  new  pinafore  while  I  show  him  his 
letters." 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  should  n't  know  how  to  cut 
out  a  pinafore,  Aunt  Pen." 

"  Then  I  '11  cut  out  one  for  you,  and 
you  shall  make  it;  it  is  pleasant  to  have 
needle-work  in  one's  hands  while  one  is  lis- 
tening." 

The  pinafore  was  soon  cut  out  from  some 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  213 

pretty  white  checked  muslin  which  Aunt  Pen 
found  for  me,  and  I  stitched  away  very  busily 
while  Peep  went  through  his  alphabet  with 
so  much  readiness  as  to  make  Aunt  Pen 
say, — 

"  Come !  you  know  your  letters  already 
very  well  indeed  ;  you  '11  soon  learn  to  read 
easily." 

Peep  looked  very  much  delighted,  and  he 
was  just  beginning  to  go  through  the  small 
letters  after  the  capital  letters,  when  we 
heard  the  sound  of  wheels  coming  along  the 
road  and  then  stop  at  our  garden-gate.  We 
looked  out  and  saw  a  lady,  with  a  little  boy 
and  girl  beside  her,  walking  up  the  path  to- 
wards the  house. 

«  It 's  Mabel !  "  cried  Peep. 

"  It's  Jamie  !  "  I  said.  "  It  must  be  their 
mamma  with  them." 

"  Who  are  they  ?  Who  is  their  mamma  ?  " 
asked  Aunt  Pen. 

"  She  's  Lady  Buckhurst.  We  know  them; 
we  have  met  them ;  but  we  never  saw 
her." 


214  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

As  I  spoke,  the  house-door  was  opened  by 
Sue,  who  then  opened  the  parlor-door  and 
showed  in  the  lady  and  the  two  children. 
They  both  ran  straight  to  us  and  shook  hands 
with  us,  while  their  mamma  went  up  to  Aunt 
Pen  and  said,  — 

"  I  hope,  dear  Mrs.  Bruff,  you  will  forgive 
the  freedom  I  take  in  calling  upon  you  so 
very  soon  after  your  coming  home  ;  but  I  felt 
that  I  could  not  let  a  day  pass  before  I  came 
to  thank  you  for  the  great  help  your  little 
people  gave  mine  lately,  when,  but  for  their 
presence  of  mind,  my  little  Mabel  and  Jamie 
might  have  been  drowned." 

"  Your  ladyship  is  very  good,  very  kind  ; 
but  I  hardly  know  what  you  speak  of.  I  re- 
joice to  learn  that  my  little  Bab  and  Peep 
behaved  well ;  but  I  have  heard  nothing  of 
any  such  accident.  The  children  have  had 
hardly  time  to  tell  me  yet ;  I  only  came  home 
yesterday,  and  I  have  but  just  made  their 
acquaintance,  as  it  were,  though  they  are 
already  dear  to  me." 

"  They  deserve  to  be  dear  to  all  who  know 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  215 

them ;  they  are  good,  brave,  sensible  children, 
and  I  am  glad  to  be  able  to  thank  them  my- 
self. I  only  waited  to  do  so  till  I  could  call 
upon  you  and  introduce  myself  properly  be- 
fore I  brought  my  own  thanks.  Let  me  do 
so  now.  You  see  the  little  ones  have  already 
made  friends  together,  and  understand  each 
other  without  ceremony.  I  hope  we  shall  do 
the  same." 

"  Mamma,"  said  little  Jamie,  eagerly, 
"  may  I  take  Peep  out  to  see  Stubbs  and  the 
horses  ?  He  says  he  should  like  to  see 
them." 

His  mother  nodded  and  smiled ;  the  two 
boys  ran  out  to  the  gate,  and  Lady  Buckhurst 
went  on, — 

"  I  hope  we  shall  become  excellent  neigh- 
bors, Mrs.  Bruff.  My  little  people  will  have 
charming  companions  in  yours,  and  they  are 
sadly  in  want  of  young  company  just  now, 
for  their  elder  brother  is  away  at  school,  and 
they  miss  him  very  much ;  yet  it  is  not  every 
child  that  I  like  mine  to  be  intimate  with,  as 
I  wish  them  only  to  have  for  young  friends 


216  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

children  well  brought  up  in  right  ideas  of 
good  conduct  and  honest  principles.  I  chance 
to  have  heard  something  of  the  excellent  be* 
havior  of  your  young  folk  in  particular  cir- 
cumstances that  I  will  relate  to  you  some  day 
or  other;  and  I  tell  you  frankly,  they  are 
just  the  companions  and  playfellows  I  should 
like  to  secure  for  my  Mabel  and  Jamie.  Shall 
it  be  so  ?  Will  you  let  them  come  to  Buck- 
hurst  Park  ?  " 

"  I  shall  be  only  too  glad,  and  they,  I 
know,  will  be  delighted  to  come." 

"  Then  we  have  only  to  fix  the  day,  and  I 
hope  you  will  let  it  be  an  early  one,  and  come 
and  spend  the  whole  day  with  us.  As  the 
Park  is  some  distance  from  here,  I  hope  you 
will  let  me  send  the  carriage  for  you.  Shall 
it  be  to-morrow,  or  the  day  after  ?  " 

"  You  are  very  good,  very  thoughtful,  Lady 
Buckhurst ;  but  —  " 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Bruff,  excuse  my  inter- 
rupting you,  but  why  need  there  be  a  '  but ' 
in  this  case  ?  " 

"Your   ladyship   has   been  so  obliging   as 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  217 

to  speak  frankly  to  me ;  will  you  allow  me  to 
speak  frankly  to  you  ?  " 

u  Certainly  ;  I  ask  nothing  better." 

"  Well,  then,  I  hope  you  will  let  me  send 
the  children  to  the  park  to  spend  the  day, 
and  permit  me  to  stay  at  home." 

"  Do  you  feel  not  strong  yet  ?  I  hear  you 
have  been  ill  and  greatly  tried.  I  would  not 
press  you  to  come  if  you  still  feel  unequal  to 
the  exertion.  But  a  drive  in  the  open  air,  a 
stroll  in  the  garden,  the  park,  I  hope,  might 
even  do  you  good." 

"  It  is  not  that.  I  think  it  would  be  most 
pleasant,  most  healthful ;  but  —  I  told  you  I 
would  speak  frankly  —  you  see  me  the  wife 
of  Captain  BrufF;  he  is  of  a  good  family,  so 
even  am  I ;  but  perhaps  you  do  not  know 
that  I  have  been  a  poor  needle-woman,  work- 
ing for  my  daily  bread,  and  I  should  not  like 
you  hereafter  to  discover  this,  and  perhaps 
regret  —  so  well  am  I  acquainted  with  the 
conventional  rules  of  society  —  that  you  had 
sought  the  acquaintance  of  one  who  has  held 
so  low  a  position  in  the  world." 


218  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Bruff,  as  we  are  frank  with 
each  other,  you  know,  I  must  say  you  make 
me  smile  at  your  over-delicacy;  and  yet  I 
admire  you  the  more  for  it.  In  a  village 
place  like  this,  we  get  to  know  all  i  how  and 
about'  everybody,  and  I  have  long  known 
all  '  how  and  about '  the  good  devoted  daugh- 
ter who  earned  bread  for  her  dear  mother  and 
herself  independently  and  nobly,  instead  of 
being  a  burden  upon  her  richer  relations; 
how  she  may  have  been  a i  poor  needle- 
woman,' an  industrious  seamstress,  —  what 
you  will,  —  but  how  she  was  always  the  born 
gentlewoman,  the  innate  gentlewoman,  the 
gentlewoman  in  heart  as  well  as  by  birth." 

I  saw  a  look  of  bright  joy  flash  out  of 
Aunt  Pen's  soft  eyes  as  Lady  Buckhurst  said 
this,  then  shook  her  warmly  by  the  hand,  and 
ended  by  kissing  her  cordially  on  the  cheek. 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Bruff,  I  mean  always  to  be 
as  frank  and  candid  as  I  am  now.  It  is  my 
nature  to  speak  out  openly ;  I  even  do  so 
before  my  children,  —  not  being  of  opinion, 
with  many  people,  that  there  should  be  re- 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  219 

serves  in  their  presence,  as  I  think  it  well 
they  should  early  be  taught  the  truth  with 
respect  to  worldly  rank,  position,  and  real 
dignity.  I  will  tell  you,  at  once,  that  I  am 
less  well-born  than  yourself.  I  was  a  hard- 
working governess  when  Sir  James  Buck- 
hurst  married  me,  and  my  relations  were 
hard-working  commercial  people,  not  particu- 
larly wealthy.  I  wish  they  had  been,  for  a 
rich  dowry  with  his  wife  would  have  been 
useful  to  my  dear  Sir  James,  who,  though 
descended  from  one  of  the  oldest  families  in 
the  county,  had  his  paternal  estate  so  much 
injured  by  the  extravagance  of  his  forefathers 
that  he  has  been  obliged  to  practise  the  strict- 
est economy  to  keep  the  old  place  still  in  his 
own  possession.  Therefore  you  will  find  us 
with  antique  furniture,  faded  carpets  and  cur- 
tains, but  with  a  certain  grace  and  beauty  of 
bygone  mode  about  it  all  which  I  think  will 
have  its  charm  for  you  as  well  as  I  own  it  has 
for  me.  Come  and  judge  for  yourself  as  soon 
as  may  be.  Let  me  say  the  day  after  to- 
morrow, —  Saturday ;  and  meantime,  pray 


220  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

forgive  me  for  this  unconscionably  long  first 
call." 

She  stepped  into  her  carriage  with  her 
frank,  winning  smile,  leaving  us  all  delighted 
with  herself  and  her  visit. 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 


221 


CHAPTER  XV. 

HEN  Saturday  came,  it  was  as  bril- 
liant a  morning  as  could  be  wished  ; 
and  though  there  was  a  fresh, 
crisp  air,  yet  the  sun  shone  out, 
giving  warmth  and  a  feeling  of  actual  spring 
to  the  still  early  season.  The  carriage  came 
in  excellent  time,  as  appointed,  during  the 
forenoon ;  so  that  we  children  had  not  much 
trial  of  our  patience  after  we  were  ready 
dressed  a  good  quarter  of  an  hour  before  we 
need  have  been.  Peep  asked  if  he  might 
sit  on  the  coach-box  with  Stubbs  •  so  that 
Aunt  Pen  and  I  had  the  inside  of  the  carriage 
all  to  ourselves,  and  we  could  loll  back  on 
the  soft-cushioned  seats  and  play  at  being 
great  ladies  to  our  hearts'  content.  She 
humored  me  in  my  fancy,  and  called  herself 


222 

the  Duchess  of  Airs-and-Graces,  while  address- 
ing me  as  Marchioness  Mincing-Mouth ;  and 
we  talked  to  each  other  in  the  most  prim, 
stiff,  ridiculous  tone  and  absurd  manner. 
Then  she  broke  ofi^  laughing,  and  said, — 

"  Ay,  it 's  all  very  well  to  do  this  for  fun ; 
but,  really,  the  best-bred  people  are,  in  fact, 
generally  the  most  easy  and  unaffected." 

The  carriage  had  passed  through  the  vil- 
lage, and  was  now  in  a  pretty  little  country 
lane,  where  the  hedges  were  beginning  to  be 
covered  with  light  green  tips  and  tufts  of 
scarcely  opened  leaves;  the  slender  blades 
of  grass  beneath  the  hedges  were  of  the  most 
exquisite  tint,  and  suddenly,  peering  among 
them,  I  called  out, — - 

"  Oh,  look,  look,  Aunty  !  There  's  a  speck 
of  bluish  color ;  I  do  believe  it 's  a  vio- 
let !  And,  oh,  look !  There  are  some  prim- 
roses. I  do  wish  we  were  walking  instead 
of  driving !  I  could  gather  some  to  take  to 
Mabel." 

"  Ah,  Bab,  you  see  even  being  in  a  carriage 
may  have  its  drawbacks,  eh  ?  " 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  223 

"  Yes,  Aunty.  I  wonder  whether  we 
might  tell  Stubbs  to  stop  a  moment  while 
I  get  out  and  pick  a  little  nosegay  of  violets 
and  primroses.  Do  you  think  I  might  ?  " 

"  Well,  my  dear,  I  think  it  will  not  be 
polite  to  linger  on  our  way,  when  we  are 
paying  our  first  visit,  and  gathering  wild 
flowers  takes  up  time  in  a  wonderful  way ; 
we  go  on  from  one  to  another,  and  finding 
4  just  this  one  more,'  and,  '  oh,  just  this  other 
little  beauty,'  till  hours  melt  before  we  are 
aware." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know,  exactly ;  it 's  quite  true ; 
you  're  right,  Aunty." 

Just  then  the  carriage  turned  through  some 
ivy-covered  gates  in  the  midst  of  a  moss- 
grown  paling  that  enclosed  the  park  for  some 
miles  round.  There  was  a  mellow  browny- 
gray  look  about  this  wooden  enclosure  itself 
which  made  its  coating  of  velvety  moss  and 
the  ferns  and  docks  at  its  foot  form  so  beau- 
tiful an  effect  that  both  Aunty  and  I  burst 
out  with,  — 

"  Oh,  how  very,  very  lovely  !  " 


224  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

"  I  say,  Bab,"  shouted  Peep,  "did  you  ever 
see  such  a  place  ?  Look  up  at  these  grand 
old  trees  over  our  heads!" 

We  were  passing  along  a  noble  avenue  of 
elms,  and  on  either  side  we  saw  groups  of  tall 
oaks,  ashes,  beeches  (for  Aunty  told  me  their 
names),  in  threes  and  twos,  or  more,  together ; 
while  in  the  glades  between  we  saw  slants  of 
sunshine,  and  soft  shadows  and  distant  peeps 
of  blue  hills. 

"  Oh,  Bab  !  "  screamed  Peep,  "  look  there  ! 
Deer !  stags !  Oh,  look  at  their  branching 
horns  !  Look  at  their  light  brown  sides,  some 
of  them  spotted  underneath  with  white !  " 

"  Yes ;  '  antlers,'  you  know,  Peep,  and 
'  dappled  coats,'  that  father  used  to  tell  us 
deer  had.  Do  you  remember  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes ;  and  to  think,  Bab,  that  we 
really  see  deer  ourselves,  at  last!  Oh, 
look,  quick !  I  see  something  of  bright 
light  blue  dart  across !  A  bird !  a  beautiful 
bird  ! " 

"A jay,  with  its  jewelled  wing,"  said  Aunt 
Pen. 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  225 

"Jewelled,  Aunty?"  I  said  wonderingly. 
"  Can  birds  wear  jewels  ?  " 

Aunt  Pen  laughed,  and  said,  — 

"  Some  birds  seem  made  of  jewels,  —  the 
jay  with  its  wing  like  a  sapphire ;  the  king- 
fisher, the  humming-bird,  that  look  as  if 
rubies  and  emeralds  and  amethysts  were 
clustered  together  upon  their  throats  and 
breasts." 

As  she  spoke,  we  drove  up  to  the  edge  of 
a  broad  stone  terrace  on  which  the  house 
stood.  There  was  a  fountain  at  one  end  of 
this  terrace  and  a  sun-dial  at  the  other ;  and 
the  stone  of  the  terrace  and  the  fountain 
and  the  antique  dial  was  grass-grown,  moss- 
grown,  and  softened  by  this  green  coloring. 
Before  we  had  got  well  out  of  the  carriage, 
Lady  Buckhurst,  Mabel,  and  Jamie  came  out 
upon  the  terrace  to  meet  us.  They  welcomed 
us  in  the  heartiest  way,  and  led  us  into  a  fine 
spacious  hall  that  reached  from  the  ground- 
floor  up  to  the  very  top  of  the  house.  This 
hall  was  hung  round  with  old  armor  and 
ancient  weapons,  with  stags'  antlers,  and  bows 

15 


226  UNCLE,   PEEP,    AND   I. 

and  arrows,  and  fowling-pieces,  and  fishing- 
rods  ;  with  tall  Indian  vases  in  the  corners, 
from  which  a  delicious  smell  of  lavender  and 
rose-leaves  came  and  filled  the  air  of  the  hall 
with  a  delicate,  hoarded-up  kind  of  scent,  like 
old  drawers  full  of  lace  and  muslin  that  mother 
used  to  tell  me  about ;  and  high  up,  round 
the  hall,  there  was  a  railed-in  gallery,  in  one 
recess  of  which  there  was  an  organ,  with  its 
rows  of  metal  pipes  and  its  rich,  dark  front 
of  wood.  Some  of  these  things  I  noticed  at 
once ;  others  I  remembered  afterwards,  when 
Aunty  talked  them  over  with  me  after  our 
first  visit.  From  the  hall  we  turned  into  a 
small  room  which  Lady  Buckhurst  told  us 
was  where  Sir  James  saw  his  tenants  and 
farm-people,  and  which  adjoined  his  own 
study.  On  entering  the  small  room,  we  saw 
a  young  girl  standing  waiting,  who  dropped 
a  courtesy  when  we  came  in.  Lady  Buckhurst 
asked  her  who  she  was,  and  the  girl  answered  : 
"  If  you  please,  mylady,  I  'm  Jenny  Sparks ; 
father  sent  me  to  Sir  James  to  tell  him  —  to 
ask  him  —  " 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  227 

"  Sir  James  is  gone  out  riding  this  morn- 
ing, my  girl,  but  he  will  be  home  soon  after 
one,  and  he  will,  see  you  then,  and  hear  what 
you  have  to  say  to  him  from  your  father." 

"  Yes,  mylady ;  the  footman  told  me  so, 
and  bade  me  wait  here  till  Sir  James  returns." 

We  went  on  into  the  delightful  little  study, 
which  was  fitted  up  with  shelves  full,  full  of 
books,  —  a  lo'wish  range  of  shelves,  over  which 
were  busts  and  statuettes  on  oaken  brackets, 
and  engravings  hung  round  in  simple  oak 
frames. 

"  Sir  James  amuses  himself  with  making 
his  brackets  and  frames  with  his  own  hands, 
from  the  trees  in  the  park,"  said  Lady  Buck- 
hurst.  "  It  saves  cost,  and  it  gives  pleasant 
occupation,  —  a  double  good." 

She  showed  us  through  many  charming 
rooms, —  one  long  drawing-room,  where  there 
were  some  fine  old  family  portraits  and  good 
paintings,  and  where  we  lingered  some  time 
enjoying  the  pictures  —  until  we  came  into 
a  nice  shady  homey-looking  room,  where 
needle-work,  and  embroidery  frames,  and  work- 


228  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

baskets,  and  books  that  looked  as  if  they  were 
lying  there  to  be  read  between  whiles  were  in 
just  that  pleasant  confusion  which  does  n't  look 
untidy,  but  only  looks  like  comfortable  ease. 
Here  Lady  Buckhurst  made  us  sit  down  and 
rest  till  lunch-time  ;  there  being  endless  sofas 
and  arm-chairs  and  low  cushioned  seats, 
covered  with  a  pretty  flowered  chintz. 

"  Very  old-fashioned,  you  see,  as  I  told 
you  ;  but  very  cosey  and  enjoyable,  I  think. 
I  should  be  sorry  to  see  anything  modern- 
ized in  this  dear  old  place,  this  old-world, 
go-to-sleep,  behind-the-age  nook  of  ours." 

"  Nothing  could  be  in  worse  taste  than 
to  alter  a  single  long-established  decoration 
here,"  said  Aunt  Pen,  "  where  all  is  in  har- 
mony of  antiquated  grace  and  beauty." 

"  Mabel,  my  darling,  go  and  tell  Mrs. 
Quince  that  I  wish  her  not  to  wait  till  papa 
comes  home,  but  to  send  in  lunch  at  once, 
as  I  think  our  friends  will  be  hungry  after 
their  drive  through  the  open  air.  And,  Mabel, 
you  can  take  your  little  friend  with  you,  as 
she  may  like  to  see  the  housekeeper's  room, 


UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND    I.  229 

and  the  store-cupboards,  and  the  glass-closets, 
and  all  Mrs.  Quince's  orderly  ways,  as  well  as 
Mrs.  Quince  herself,  who  is  quite  a  character, 
and  looks  like  an  old  picture  stepped  from  its 
canvas." 

Lady  Buckhurst  said  this  last  to  Aunty, 
while  Mabel  and  I  ran  off  to  the  old  house- 
keeper, whom  we  found  looking  the  very 
pink  of  neatness,  in  a  close  mob-cap,  which 
had  a  quilling  of  net  that  went  round  her 
face  and  under  her  chin,  and  with  a  snowy 
muslin  kerchief  folded  across  her  bosom,  and 
a  large  white  muslin  apron  over  her  dark 
stuff  gown.  When  Mabel  had  delivered  her 
mother's  message,  she  said,  — 

"  Mrs.  Quince,  you  dear  old  duck,  I  want 
to  coax  you  to  let  me  put  together  a  plate  of 
cakes  and  fruit  and  sweeties  for  Bab  and  me 
to  take  to  papa's  morning-room,  .where  there 
is  a  young  girl  waiting  to  speak  to  him,  who 
looked  pale  and  thin  and  tired  with  her  long 
walk  and  her  long  waiting ;  and  I  should  so 
like  to  take  her  something  that  would  help  to 
pass  the  time  till  papa  comes  home." 


230  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

"  Ah,  Miss  Mabel,  Miss  Mabel,  you  know 
well  enough  I  can  never  help  letting  you 
have  your  own  way,  or  anything  you  want. 
There  are  the  cakes,  my  dear,  here  are  the 
sweets  and  goodies,  and  here  's  the  fruit  on 
this  shelf." 

She  opened  her  stores  and  displayed  them 
with  evident  pride  in  their  orderly  arrange- 
ment. Mabel  took  two  plates,  and  arranged 
a  pile  of  dainties  on  each,  giving  me  one  to 
carry  and  carrying  the  other  herself. 

"  Now  give  me  a  sheet  of  nice,  stout,  white 
paper,  Quincey  dear,  and  then  I  shall  have  all 
I  want,  and  we  '11  be  off  out  of  your  way." 

"  Out  of  my  way  when  you  've  had  yours, 
eh,  Miss  Mabel  ?  Ah,  just  like  all  you  chil- 
dren. Well,  it's  natural,  it's  natural,  and 
I've  nothing  to  say  against  it;  for  what's 
natural 's  natural,  of  course,  and  I  'm  not  one 
to  go  against  nature,  so  there  's  an  end  of  the 
matter." 

We  carried  our  platesful  very  carefully,  and 
succeeded  in  conveying  them  without  top- 
pling off  anything,  straight  along  the  passage 


UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND   I.  231 

from  the  housekeeper's  room,  across  the  large 
hall  and  into  the  small  morning-room.  As 
Mabel  set  down  her  plate  to  open  the  door, 
and  I  was  balancing  mine  between  both  my 
hands,  I  heard  a  rustle  and  quick  rush  across 
the  room  we  were  entering ;  but  when  Mabel 
took  up  her  plate  again  and  she  and  I  went 
in,  side  by  side  together,  we  found  the  young 
girl  standing  just  where  we  had  found  her 
when  we  first  saw  her.  I  noticed  that  her 
face,  which  had  been  very  white  then,  looked 
very  red  now.  However,  she  dropped  her 
courtesy  as  before,  and  seemed  struck  dumb 
with  surprise  when  Mabel  and  I  put  the 
plates  before  her,  Mabel  saying, — 

"  I  thought  you  looked  tired,  and  would  be 
still  more  tired  waiting  so  long;  therefore 
we  've  brought  you  some  nice  things  to  pass 
the  time,  and  I  thought  you  'd  perhaps  like  to 
have  this  sheet  of  paper  and  make  a  parcel  of 
what  you  did  n't  care  to  eat  here,  and  take  it 
home  with  you  to  give  to  your  little  brothers 
and  sisters,  if  you  have  any.  Have  you  ?  " 

"  Six,"  was  the  short  answer. 


232  UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I. 

Then  the  girl  seemed  to  think  it  too  short, 
and  she  flurriedly  said,  — 

"  Six,  miss." 

She  looked  staringly  and  rather  bewil- 
deredly  at  Mabel ;  then  she  dropped  another 
courtesy,  and  said,  — 

"  Thank  you !  Oh,  thank  you,  Miss !  How 
good  of  you  —  how  good  of  you  to  think  of 
bringing  these !-" 

"Good-by;  I  hope  you'll  enjoy  them. 
Come,  Bab,  we  must  fly  back  to  mamma. 
Lunch  will  be  ready." 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  233 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

E  had  such  a  pretty  lunch !  Almost 
as  many  wild  flowers  on  the  table 
as  dishes  of  cream-cheese  and  fruit 
and  cakes  and  preserves.  There 
were  violets,  primroses,  daffodils,  daisies, 
mosses,  and  delicate  grasses,  placed  in  very 
simple  but  very  beautifully  shaped  vases  and 
glasses,  which  my  Aunt  admired  extremely. 

"  Sir  James  and  I  always  agree  that  what 
we  have  in  daily  use  need  not  be  costly  to  be 
elegant;  and  often  the  most  really  pretty 
things  are  the  least  expensive.  I  remember 
once  seeing  an  exquisite  little  green  basket- 
dish  of  the  very  commonest  earthenware 
which  my  lady  friend,  who  brought  it  from  a 
village  in  Italy,  on  the  Adriatic,  told  me  cost 
but  a  few  pence;  and  yet  it  was  perfectly 
fashioned,  and  looked  like  a  firm  open  plait  of 


234  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

green  rushes  rounded  into  a  receptacle  for 
fruit,  which  she  used  constantly  among  her 
dessert  service.  By  the  way,  you  see  I  give 
you  nothing  more  than  bread  and  cheese  and 
fruit  for  lunch,  as  I  want  you  to  eat  a  good 
dinner,  which  I  have  ordered  rather  early,  so 
that  you  may  drive  home  before  dark,  and 
not  let  Captain  Bruff  be  left  too  long  with- 
out you  all." 

She  chatted  on  gayly  and  brightly  during 
and  after  lunch,  so  that  time  passed  almost 
unperceived,  until  at  length  she  said,  — 

"  It  is  rather  strange  Sir  James  is  not  yet 
returned ;  it  must  be  long  past  the  hour  he 
said  he  would  be  back." 

"  And  that  poor  girl,  Jenny  Sparks,  must 
be  still  waiting,  waiting,  mamma,"  said  Ma- 
bel. "  I  'm  so  glad  Bab  and  I  thought  of 
taking  her  something  to  help  her  pass  away 
the  time.  It  must  have  seemed  very  long, 
even  then,  when  I  first  saw  her  and  noticed 
how  pale  and  tired  she  looked." 

"  But  she  did  n't  look  pale  when  we  took 
her  the  plates  of  nice  things.  She  looked 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  235 

very  red,  and  she  looked  very  odd,  —  some- 
how very  startled  and  disturbed." 

"  Perhaps  she  had  fallen  asleep,  tired  of 
waiting,"  said  Mabel. 

"  No,  I  don't  think  she  had  been  sleeping," 
I  said.  "  I  thought  I  heard  something  stir 
when  you  opened  the  door ;  something  like  a 
hurrying  across  the  room,  —  a  hasty  step." 

"  Your  little  Bab  is  a  very  noticing  little 
person,  strangely  observant  for  one  so 
young,"  said  Lady  Buckhurst,  smiling  at 
Aunt  Pen.  "  But  if  you  are  quite  rested  we 
will  go  back  to  the  hall,  and  I  can  let  you 
hear  the  fine  tone  of  our  organ ;  and  we  will 
take  a  peep  at  the  poor,  patient,  long-waiting 
girl  at  the  same  time,  and  see  whether  she  is 
asleep  or  awake  now." 

We  all  went,  as  she  proposed ;  and  before 
going  up  into  the  organ-gallery,  Lady  Buck- 
hurst  softly  opened  the  door  of  the  small 
morning-room  and  looked  in.  The  girl  had 
flung  herself  down  upon  one  of  the  chairs,  her 
hands  clasped  over  her  face ;  but  she  started 
up  with  a  slight  scream  as  she  heard  us  ap- 


236  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

proach.  She  burst  into  a  passion  of  sobs, 
and  looked  violently  agitated  as  she  said,  — 

"  Oh,  mylady,  forgive  me,  forgive  me ! 
Though  I  can't  forgive  myself  hardly ;  but 
I  '11  tell  you  the  whole  truth,  indeed,  indeed 
I  will !  "  " 

"  If  you  tell  me  the  whole  truth,  I  cer- 
tainly shall  forgive  you ;  if  you  tell  me  the 
exact  truth,  —  the  exact  truth,  mind,  —  I 
promise  to  be  not  even  very  angry  with 
you." 

u  Oh,  mylady,  I  did  n't  mean  to  do  wrong  ! 
I  did  n't  think  of  it,  it  did  n't  come  into  my 
mind  to  do  it,  till,  after  waiting  a  good  hour 
for  Sir  James,  I  grew  tired  of  staying  in  this 
one  room  and  I  just  gave  a  peep  into  the 
next.  I  found  it  full,  oh,  so  full  of  books; 
I  'd  never  seen  so  many  together  before  in 
my  life;  I  didn't  think  there 'd  been  so 
many  books  in  all  the  world,  mylady ;  and 
then  I  began  to  take  one  of  them  down  from 
the  shelf,  to  see  if  there  were  any  pictures  in 
it ;  but  there  were  n't,  and  as  I  put  it  back  in 
its  place  my  eye  caught  a  queer  little  figure 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  237 

on  the  table,  —  a  figure  of  a  boy  with  wings 
on  his  shoulders  and  his  finger  to  his  lips ; 
and  it  was  bright  and  shining,  like  silver, 
and  I  thought  it  was  silver,  and  I  saw  it 
was  perched  on  the  top  of  the  lid  to  a  thing 
made  to  hold  ink,  and  I  found  the  lid  came 
off  quite  easily  when  I  touched  it,  —  for  I  did 
touch  it,  mylady,  oh,  I  did  touch  it!  And 
then  the  thought  came  into  my  head  what  a 
pretty  thing  it  was,  and  how  I  should  like  to 
show  it  to  brothers  and  sisters  at  home.  Be- 
fore I  hardly  knew  what  I  did,  mylady,  I  put 
it  in  my  pocket;  but  indeed  I  did  n't  take 
it  because  it  was  silver.  Indeed,  indeed,  I 
did  n't  steal  it !  I  did  n't  take  it  for  its  value, 
mylady  ;  do  believe  that ! " 

"  It  is  not  silver ;  it  is  not  of  value  except- 
ing for  its  prettiness.  So,  you  see,  if  you 
had  taken  it  to  sell,  you  would  not  have  sold 
it  for  much ;  and  you  would  not  have  been 
able  to  sell  it  without  being  at  once  found 
out,  it  is  so  peculiar.  But  go  on." 

"  I  had  just  put  it  in  my  pocket,  mylady, 
when  I  heard  the  door  open  and  somebody 


238  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

outside  who  seemed  to  be  coming  in ;  but  be- 
fore they  did,  I  had  time  to  run  back  to  the 
place  where  I  had  been  standing  in  this  room. 
I  had  no  sooner  done  so  than  I  saw  these  two 
little  ladies,  each  carrying  a  plate  piled  up 
with  good  things  which  they  had  brought  for 
me,  —  for  me,  mylady,  for  me !  I,  who  had 
just  been  behaving  like  a  thief,  and  had 
thought  of  robbing  them,  or  at  least  taking 
away  something  that  belonged  to  their  house. 
I  felt  as  I  'd  never  felt  before,  and  as  I  hope  I 
never  shall  feel  again  in  my  life,  if  I  live  to  be  a 
hundred  years  old.  I  was  ashamed  —  ashamed 
of  myself ;  ready  to  hide  under  the  earth  if  I 
could,  and  stamp  it  down  upon  my  head.  This 
was  after  the  two  little  angels  —  for  they 
looked  like  angels  to  me,  —  had  gone  away  ; 
and  then  it  suddenly  darted  into  my  head 
that  I  could  put  back  the  queer  figure  with 
the  wings  into  its  place,  and  nobody  would 
know  how  wicked  I  had  been.  It  seemed  to 
burn  my  pocket,  and  I  felt  better  when  I  put 
it  back  again;  but  I  could  n't  feel  easy,  even 
though  I  thought  nobody  need  know  anything 


UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND   I.  239 

of  it.     And  now  I'm  glad  you've  made  me 
tell  you  the  whole  truth,  mylady." 

"  So  am  I,  Jenny ;  and  not  only  do  I  for- 
give you,  as  I  promised  I  would,  but  I  trust 
you  and  believe  you.  Nay,  I  even  believe 
that  this  one  severe  lesson,  and  the  pain  you 
have  gone  through,  will  prevent  you  from 
having  the  least  wish  to  take  anything  that  is 
not  yours  as  long  as  you  live." 

"  She  has  n't  touched  one  of  the  nice 
things,  mamma,"  said  Mabel,  looking  at  the 
two  plates.  "  May  I  make  them  up  into  a 
parcel  for  her  to  take  home  to  her  six  little 
brothers  and  sisters  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  dear.  And,  Jenny,  it  is  no  use 
waiting  any  longer  to-day  for  Sir  James's  re- 
turn ;  something  has  detained  him,  I  dare  say. 
Therefore  I  will  tell  them  to  give  you  some- 
thing more  substantial  to  eat  than  cakes  be- 
fore you  go,  as  you  must  be  nearly  famished, 
I  should  think,  waiting  all  this  time.  Good- 
day,  Jenny,  and  don't  forget  the  lesson  you 
have  had." 

"  No,  mylady,  never,  never  !     And  never 


240  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

can  I  forget  how  good  your  ladyship  's  been 
to  me  !  " 

She  dropped  her  courtesy,  and  her  heart 
seemed  too  full  to  say  more.  Lady  Buck- 
hurst  rang  the  bell  and  gave  her  orders  to  the 
footman,  who  was  followed  by  Jenny  Sparks 
with  a  grateful  look  at  us  all  round  as  she 
left  the  room. 

We  all  went  up  into  the  gallery  that  ran 
round  the  hall,  and  listened  to  some  delight- 
ful organ-playing  till  Sir  James  came  home, 
and  then  we  all  sat  down  to  dinner,  —  a 
bright,  cheery,  gay  meal,  where  Sir  James 
chatted  as  easily  and  pleasantly  with  us  as 
his  frank-natured,  smiling  wife  did ;  so  that 
when  the  carriage  came  round  to  the  terrace- 
steps,  our  party  were  all  sorry  to  break  up, 
and  the  kind,  friendly  father  and  mother,  with 
their  young  children,  came  out  to  see  us  off, 
saying  over  and  over  how  glad  they  were  to 
see  us,  and  how  they  hoped  it  would  not  be 
long  before  they  saw  us  again.  On  arriving 
at  home  we  found  Uncle  at  the  garden-gate 
looking  out  for  us. 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND  I.  241 

"  Well,  my  Penn'orth,  how  are  you  ?  Not 
overtired,  I  hope.  Glad  to  see  you  here 
again,  I  can  tell  you.  They  say  *  you  're 
come  back  to  me  like  a  bad  penny ; '  but  I 
say  '  you  're  come  back  to  me  like  a  good 
penny,'  —  the  best  I  ever  had,  my  lucky 
penny,  my  fortunate  penny,  my  own,  own 
Penn'orth,  that  I  can't  afford  to  lose,  or 
scarcely  to  let  out  of  my  sight." 

He  seemed  in  high  spirits,  as  if  on  purpose 
not  to  make  us  fancy  he  had  been  feeling 
lonely  or  left-at-home  while  we  had  been  en- 
joying such  a  happy  holiday ;  and  he  asked  us 
everything  we  had  seen,  heard,  and  done,  with 
the  liveliest  interest,  and  we  repeated  it  all 
with  such  exact  telling,  that  he  said  he  felt  as 
if  he  had  been  there  and  enjoyed  it  with  us. 

It  struck  me  often  that  Uncle  was  quite  a 
changed  man  in  some  things  since  his  mar- 
riage ;  he  was  so  cheery  and  merry,  and 
seemed  so  happy  in  his  home  now,  with  Aunt 
Pen  and  Peep  and  me.  She  made  us  all  feel 
so  much  more  close  to  each  other  and  fond 
of  each  other,  and  interested  in  what  the 

16 


242  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

whole  family  party  thought  and  did.  A  de- 
lightful feeling  of  being  together,  and  being 
glad  to  be  together,  seemed  to  have  grown 
up  in  the  house  since  she  had  become  its 
second  head ;  and  we  enjoyed  the  improve- 
ment immensely,  though  without  saying  much 
about  it  in  words.  I  sometimes  thought  how 
astonished  and  pleased  Tom  would  have  felt 
could  he  have  been  at  home  to  see  how  very 
different  a  step-mother  really  might  be  from 
what  he  had  made  sure  she  would  be.  But 
Tom  was  still  away  at  school,  and  we  only 
very  rarely  had  letters  from  him,  which 
merely  said  he  was  well  and  hoped  we  were 
the  same. 

One  of  these  letters  came  from  him  just 
before  we  were  expecting  him  home  for  the 
Easter  holidays ;  but  instead  of  its  telling  us 
the  day  he  was  coming,  it  told  us  he  was  not 
thinking  of  doing  so  at  all.  Uncle  read  out 
the  letter  to  us  at  breakfast,  after  he  had 
first  read  it  to  himself.  The  post  generally 
came  in  while  we  were  at  breakfast,  so  that 
we  often  had  letters  read  out  to  us  all,  now ; 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  243 

though  before  we  had  Aunt  Pen  with  us,  Un- 
cle used  to  read  his  letters  only  to  himself, 
and  then  sit  looking  into  the  fire  without 
speaking.  This  was  Tom's  letter  :  — 

DEAR  FATHER,  —  Dick  Wentworth  has  asked 
me  to  spend  the  Easter  holidays  at  his  father's 
place  near  here.  It's  a  fine  place,  he  says,  and 
there  '11  be  lots  of  fishing  and  shooting  and  boat- 
ing and  games,  and  it  '11  be  great  fun.  So  I  hope 
you'll  let  me  go  instead  of  coming  home  this  half, 
as  Dick's  father  is  quite  one  of  the  county  swells, 
and  he  expects  a  great  many  London  swells  at 
Easter  on  a  visit.  I  shall  want  a  dress-suit  of 
clothes  for  evenings  and  dinner-parties,  besides 
plenty  of  other  things  that  take  cash,  and  my 
pocket-money 's  running  short;  therefore  I  shall  be 
glad  if  you  '11  be  the  generous  governor  I  've  always 
found  you,  and  send  a  supply  to 

Your  dutiful  son, 

THOMAS  BRUFF. 

"Very  'dutiful/  truly!"  said  Uncle. 
"  *  Governor '  !  '  swells ' !  How  I  hate  slang ! 
And  how  the  young  people  use  it  now-a-days ! 
How  hard  it  sounds,  and  how  hard  it  makes 
them !  It  seems  to  help  them  to  fling  off  all 


244  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

feeling, — even  the  little  they  might  have 
left ;  for  there  's  the  very  smallest  quantity 
remaining,  I  think,  now-a-days." 

"  Don't  say  so ;  there  's  plenty  left  in  the 
world,"  said  Aunt  Pen,  earnestly,  "  only  it 's 
voted  old-fashioned  to  show  feeling." 

"  More 's  the  pity,  Penn'orth  !  I  think  just 
a  little  might  have  been  shown  in  this  very 
letter,  if  only  for  decent  civility's  sake.  Not 
one  word  of  remembrance  to  any  of  us  here; 
not  a  syllable  to  show  that  though  he  's  eager 
to  go  and  spend  his  holidays  with  his  school- 
fellow, he  's  sorry  to  have  to  give  up  coming 
to  see  his  old  home  and  all  of  us  here.  I 
could  n't  have  believed  Tom  was  so  hard  and 
unfeeling." 

"  Boys  are  apt  to  be  thoughtless  about 
sending  messages  home ;  and  they  often  seem 
harder  than  they  really  are.  They  frequently 
feel  a  good  deal,  but  think  it  manly  to  hide 
their  feelings." 

"  The  most  manly  men  are  the  most  tender- 
hearted. Look  at  what  Nelson  was !  No ; 
Tom  's  only  thinking  of  Dick's  father's  '  fine 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND  I.  245 

place/  the  '  lots  of  fun '  he  '11  have  there,  and 
the  extra  pocket-money  he  wants  me  to  send 
him." 

"  That  his  head  should  be  full  of  the  gay 
holiday  he  hopes  to  have,  is  rather  natural, 
don't  you  think  ?  And  that  he  should  wish 
to  be  provided  with  enough  money  to  be  able 
to  enjoy  it  properly,  is  also  really  very  nat- 
ural, I  think ;  and  I  'm  sure  you  '11  think  so 
too,  Uncle,  when  you  come  to  think  it  over 
quietly." 

Aunt  Pen  often  called  him  "  Uncle,"  hearing 
us  always  call  him  so ;  and  it  came  to  be  her 
settled  name  for  him. 

"  Well,  well !  I  ivill  think  it  over,  my 
Penn'orth,  and  I  dare  say  I  shall  end  by 
thinking  as  you  do ;  for  I  generally  come 
round  to  your  opinion,  finding  yours  the  most 
sensible  and  certainly  the  most  kind." 

And  thus,  I  afterwards  heard,  was  the  case. 
Uncle  sent  Tom  a  handsome  extra  allowance, 
wishing  him  a  pleasant  holiday  this  Easter  at 
Wentworth  Hall,  where  he  had  his  full  con- 
sent to  go. 


246  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 


CHAPTER  XVIL 

JNE  of  the  many  pleasant  things  that 
Aunt  Pen  did  for  me  was  to  let  me 
feel  that  I  could  be  useful  to  her. 
After  breakfast  and  lessons  were 
over  she  always  let  me  go  with  her  into  the 
kitchen  to  give  Sue  her  orders  for  the  day, 
and  then  to  the  store-cupboard  to  look  out 
stores,  and  then  to  the  pantry,  the  linen-cup- 
board, and  the  china-cupboard,  contriving 
constantly  to  find  out  some  little  job  for  me 
to  do  to  help  her.  She  even  sometimes  let 
me  do  a  little  shopping  for  her,  when  she 
found  that  I  was  proud  of  being  allowed  to 
go  out  by  myself  and  fetch  the  things  she 
wanted,  and  that  I  quite  well  knew  my  way 
to  the  shops,  and  could  choose  and  pay  for 
what  I  bought  without  any  grown-up  person 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  247 

i 

to  help  me.  One  day  she  happened  to  want 
some  darning-cotton  and  some  reels  of  sewing- 
cotton  of  different  fineness  and  coarseness, 
and  as  she  had  a  batch  of  apple-jam  to  make, 
she  allowed  me  to  go  and  buy  the  cottons ; 
saying  she  would  trust  me,  with  my  sharp 
eyes,  and  my  knowledge  of  the  qualities  she 
wanted,  to  pick  them  out  for  her.  I  went 
to  the  shop  where  the  good-natured  young 
woman  once  gave  me  the  pretty  scraps  I 
mentioned,  and  I  always  asked  her  to  serve 
me  when  I  went  there,  as  she  smiled  at  me 
and  seemed  glad  to  help  me  in  my  purchases. 
On  this  day  I  was  glad  to  find  her  disengaged 
and  able  to  attend  to  me,  and  she  was  pa- 
tiently helping  me  to  choose  out  the  fine  and 
the  coarse  skeins  and  reels  for  Aunt,  when  a 
carriage  stopped  at  the  shop-door  and  a  very 
smartly  dressed  lady  came  in  with  rather  an 
important  manner  and  an  ordering  voice, 
though  it  was  a  drawling  voice  too.  I  knew 
it  at  once,  and  I  knew  her ;  but  she  did  not 
notice  me,  and  I  think  did  not  even  see  who 
I  was,  for  I  stood  close  to  the  counter,  look- 


248  UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND   I. 

ing  carefully  into  the  two  box-drawers  placed 
before  me  to  choose  from. 

"  Is  Mrs.  Pinkins  in  the  way  ?  Tell  her  to 
come  and  wait  upon  me ;  I  like  the  shop- 
mistress  herself  to  serve  me.  Let  her  know 
Mrs.  Botterby  is  here." 

"  Yes,ma'am,immegiate ;  certainly, ma' am." 

One  of  the  young  shopwomen  hurried 
away  and  soon  returned  with  Mrs.  Pinkins, 
who  came  bustling  and  smirking  and  cour- 
tesying,  to  show  Mrs.  Botterby  some  silks  and 
ribbons  that  she  asked  for. 

While  she  was  pulling  over  and  having 
shown  to  her  roll  after  roll  of  ribbon,  and 
looking  at  length  after  length  of  various  col- 
ored silks,  I  went  on  with  my  picking  out 
cottons,  both  of  which  took  some  time ;  but 
still  she  did  n't  turn  her  eyes  towards  me. 
She  sat  on  one  of  the  high  shop-chairs  with 
her  back  a  little  turned  from  where  I  stood 
close  beside  her,  now  and  then  drawing  a 
ribbon  through  her  fingers,  or  trying  the 
thickness  of  one  of  the  showy  silks  that  lay 
at  last  in  a  heap  before  her. 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  249 

"  What  did  you  say  was  the  price  of  this 
checked  pink-and-brown  ?  " 

"  Eight  and  sixpence  a  yard,  ma'am." 

"  And  this  red  and  olive  ?  " 

"  Same  price,  ma'am.  They  're  the  last 
thing  out  in  checked  silks,  and  not  dear, 
I  think  you'll  say,  ma'am,  if  you  consider 
their  quality,  and  that  they  're  quite  the  last 
fashion." 

"  Oh,  price  is  not  an  object  with  me,  Mrs. 
Pinkins.  I  was  only  thinking  which  was  most 
becoming  when  made  up,  —  the  dark  or  the 
light  check.  Price,  you  know,  is  the  last 
thing  that  weighs  with  me." 

"  Of  course,  ma'am.  We  all  know  that  the 
lady  of  the  rich  Mr.  Botterby  —  you  '11  excuse 
me,  ma'am,  but  that 's  the  name  you  go  by 
hereabouts  —  need  n't  look  to  price  in  an 
article  she  takes  a  liking  to.  Here 's  this 
gray  satinet,  it's  nine-and-six  a  yard;  and 
though  it 's  so  delicate  in  color,  it  '11  wear  well, 
it 's  so  good  in  quality." 

"  Oh,  as  to  wearing  well,  that 's  little  con- 
sequence with  me,  you  know." 


250  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

"  To  be  sure,  ma'am,  of  course ;  but  what 
I  mean  is,  it 's  a  lady-like,  elegant  silk.  Cap- 
tain BrufE  lately  bought  a  length  for  his 
bride." 

"  Oh,  by  the  bye,  Mrs.  Pinkins,  I  hear 
you've  a  new  neighbor  settled  here.  What 
sort  of  a  person  is  she  ?  Somewhere  I  heard 
that  she  was  a  mere  nobody,  —  a  seamstress, 
a  girl  who  took  in  plain  needle-work  for  her 
living.  What  in  the  name  of  wonder  made 
the  man  marry  her  ?  What  luck  those  crea- 
tures have,  have  n't  they  ?  " 

Mrs.  Pinkins  did  n't  seem  to  notice  me  any 
more  than  Mrs.  Botterby  did ;  but  I  saw  the 
young  woman  who  was  serving  me  get  rather 
red  and  cast  a  glance  at  my  face.  I  suppose 
she  thought  I  did  n't  hear  what  was  going  on, 
for  I  kept  on  steadily  looking  at  the  cottons. 

"  It  was  a  good  catch  for  her,  to  be  sure, 
ma'am,"  was  Mrs.  Pinkins's  answer;  "and  to 
think  of  the  captain's  buying  that  lady-like 
rich  silk  for  a  dress  for  her  !  It 's  a  beauty, 
is  n't  it,  ma'am  ?  " 

"  Well,  Mrs.  Pinkins,  it 's  rather  too  quiet 


UNCLE,   PEEP,  AND  I.  251 

and  dowdy  to  suit  my  taste.  I  like  some- 
thing more  handsome-looking.  What  have 
you  in  brocades?" 

"  Here  are  some  just  out,  ma'am ;  here 's  one 

—  but  it 's  eleven-artd-six  the  yard  —  quite  in 
your  way,  ma'am.     It  'd  make  a  very  stylish 
dinner-dress,  —  yellow,  spotted  with  dead-leaf 
colored  sprigs." 

"  Yes,  very  pretty  ;  1  think  I  '11  decide  for 
a  length  of  that  one.  But  what  sort  of  a 
looking  person  is  this  new  Mrs.  Bruff?  Is  she 
pretty  ?  I  suppose  so,  or  he  would  n't  have 
thought  of  her  for  a  wife,  of  course.  Is  she 
anything  in  manners  ?  Does  she  know  how 
to  behave  ?  Is  she  fit  to  mix  in  society  ? 
Because,  you  must  know,  Mrs.  Pinkins,  my 
daughter  Almeria  —  Miss  Botterby,  you  know 

—  happened  to  meet  the  children  —  the  niece 
and  nephew,  I   believe   they   are  —  of   this 
Captain  Bruff ;  and  before  I  let  her  follow  up 
the    acquaintance,  —  for   she    took    rather   a 
fancy    to    them,  —  I    should    like    to    know 
whether  his  wife 's  the  sort   of  person  one 
would  care  to  invite  or  to  call  upon." 


252  UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I. 

"  Oh,  ma'am,  I  've  always  heard  she 's  quite 
respectable ;  not  a  word  against  her,  though 
it 's  quite  true  she  took  in  needle-work  and 
earned  her  own  livelihood." 

"  Oh,  yes,  respectable,  I  dare  say  ;  worthy, 
and  all  that.  But  what  I  mean  is,  are  her 
manners  good  ?  Does  she  seem  fit  for  her 
new  position?" 

"  Well,  ma'am,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  've 
never  seen  her  yet.  Whenever  she  's  come 
to  the  shop,  it  so  chanced  that  I  was  not  in 
the  way.  For  I  mostly  don't  serve  myself; 
I  leave  it  to  the  young  women ;  and  Mr.  Pin- 
kins  don't  care  for  me  to  attend  much  to  the 
business  except  when  pa'tic'lar  kind  of  ladies 
—  like  you,  Mrs.  Botterby,  who  are  one  of 
our  very  best  customers  —  come  into  the 
place.  How  many  yards  shall  I  say, 
ma'am  ?  " 

"Twenty  yards;  stay,  perhaps  you'd  bet- 
ter cut  twenty-two;  dresses  take  so  much 
stuff  now-a-days,  and  I  like  my  trains  very 
long.  But  as  to  this  Mrs.  Bruff,  I  really  want 
to  know  something  about  her  that  I  can  rely 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  253 

upon.  Do  you  know  any  one  near  here  who 
can  tell  me  what  she  is  ?  " 

"  I  can  !  "  I  said,  in  a  quiet  but  distinct  tone. 

Mrs.  Botterby  looked  sharply  round. 

"  And  who  may  you  be,  child  ?  Oh,  I  see, 
Captain  Bruff  s  little  girl." 

"  His  niece,"  I  said. 

"  And  you  heard  all  I  have  been  saying  to 
Mrs.  Pinkins,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  I  was  so  close  to  you,  I  could  not  help 
hearing." 

"  Well,  no  great  harm.  I  said  nothing 
that  I  care  about  being  overheard." 

"  You  said  she  was  a  mere  nobody,  a  seam- 
stress, a  girl  who  took  in  plain  needle-work 
for  her  living." 

"  Well,  I  did  say  so  ;  and  so  she  did,  did  n't 
she  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  she  told  Lady  Buckhurst  she 
did  ;  and  then  Lady  Buckhurst  said  she  might 
have  been  a  poor  needle-woman,  but  she  was 
a  born  gentlewoman,  —  a  gentlewoman  in 
heart  and  mind." 

"  Lady  Buckhurst  said  so  ?     When  ?  " 


254  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND  I. 

"  When  she  called  to  see  us,  and  asked  us 
to  go  and  see  her  at  Buckhurst  Park." 

"  Called  ?  Did  Lady  Buckhurst  call  upon 
Mrs.  Bruff  ?  Did  she  ask  her  to  go  and  see 
her  at  Buckhurst  Park  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  she  invited  us  all  to  go  and  see  her 
there,  and  we  spent  —  oh,  such  a  pleasant 
day ! " 

"  Dear  me  !  Lady  Buckhurst  calling,  Lady 
Buckhurst  inviting  her  up  to  the  Park,  — 
that  makes  an  immense  difference." 

Mrs.  Botterby  stopped  short  in  her  speech 
and  seemed  to  be  thinking.  Then  she  sud- 
denly said,  — 

"  After  all,  one  has  a  right  to  be  very  par- 
ticular as  to  who 's  who,  you  know,  Mrs.  Pin- 
kins,  when  one's  children's  visitors  or  one's 
own  visitors  are  the  question.  One  likes  to 
know  who  one  makes  acquaintance  with  in 
a  country  neighborhood ;  one  can't  be  too 
careful." 

"  Quite  so,  ma'am ;  and  since  Lady  Buck- 
hurst sets  the  example,  why  —  " 

"  Oh,  as  to  Lady  Buckhurst,  —  well,  she  has 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  255 

married  into  one  of  the  oldest  county  fami- 
lies ;  so  of  course  she  's  received  and  thought 
a  great  deal  of.  But  even  her  ladyship,  — 
between  you  and  me,  Mrs.  Pinkins,  I  have 
heard  that  she  herself,  before  her  marriage, 
was  only  a  governess,  —  a  governess ;  actually 
nothing  more  than  a  governess  ! " 

Mrs.  Botterby  had  dropped  her  voice  to  a 
whisper  as  she  said  this,  leaning  over  the 
counter  and  saying  it  quite  low  to  Mrs.  Pin- 
kins  ;  but  I  distinctly  heard  her  words,  and  I 
saw  Mrs.  Pinkins  glance  towards  me  and 
whisper,  in  return,  something  about  "  Little 
pitchers  have  long  ears,  you  know,  ma'am;" 
and  then  Mrs.  Botterby  nodded,  saying, — 

"  Yes,  indeed ;  I  never  saw  such  a  child  for 
noticing  and  hearing  everything ;  really,  I 
never  did." 

Then  she  turned  round  to  me  and  said,  — 

"  My  daughter  Almeria  often  talks  of  you 
and  your  little  brother,  and  wishes  you'd 
come  and  see  her  again.  Will  you  ?  " 

"I  will  ask  Aunt  Pen  if  she  will  let  me 
come,"  I  answered. 


256  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

"  Let  you  come,  child  ?  Why,  of  course 
she  will.  She  '11  be  only  too  glad  you  should 
visit  at  Botterby  House." 

"  I  '11  ask  her.     Good  morning,"  I  said. 

Then,  having  chosen  all  the  darning  and 
sewing  cottons  Aunty  wanted,  I  went  out  of 
the  shop. 

On  reaching  home,  and  having  given  her 
the  cottons  and  hearing  her  say  I  had  done 
iny  commission  like  a  nice  little  clever  woman 
who  knew  how  to  do  shopping  as  if  she  were 
grown  up,  I  told  Aunt  Pen  all  I  had  seen  and 
heard  at  Mrs.  Pinkins's. 

She  listened  quietly  to  all  I  had  to  tell  her, 
and  seemed  much  amused  as  I  went  on.  But 
when  I  came  to  Mrs.  Botterby's  invitation, 
she  asked  me  what  I  felt  about  it,  and 
whether  I  wished  to  accept. 

"  I  don't  think  I  should  care  to  go  to  Bot- 
terby House  again,  Aunty ;  Miss  Botterby  is 
a  very  good-natured  girl,  and  I  shouldn't  like 
to  be  ungrateful  to  her  for  her  kindness,  for 
she  meant  to  be  kind  and  generous  when  she 
had  that  beautiful  doll's  hood  and  cloak  made 


UNCLE,   PEEP,    AND   I.  257 

for  me ;  but  some  things  make  me  not  like 
her  or  her  mamma.  I  don't  like  Mrs.  Bot- 
terby's  saying  what  she  did  of  you,  or  her 
manner  of  saying  it,  in  the  first  place  ;  and  in 
the  second  place  —  " 

"  As  far  as  what  she  said  of  me,  Bab,  it 's 
of  no  consequence ;  it 's  true,  you  know :  I 
was  a  needle-woman ;  and  she  has  a  right  to 
decide  whether  she  '11  call  upon  me  and  ask 
me  to  visit  her,  or  not,  just  as  she  pleases. 
What  I  should  like  to  find  out  is,  whether 
you  wish  to  visit  there." 

"  Well,  Aunty,  I  '11  try  and  explain  all  I 
feel  about  this.  I  must  begin  by  telling  you 
the  whole  story  of  Peep's  and  my  meeting 
Miss  Botterby,  and  then  our  going  to  see 
her." 

"  You  went  to  see  her  ?  You  've  been  to 
Botterby  House  already  ?  But  tell  me  the 
whole  story,  —  tell  it  me  all  through." 

I  did  so  ;  and  then  I  said,  — 

"  You  see,  Aunty,  though  Miss  Botterby 
meant  kindly,  she  behaved  slyly  and  disagree- 
ably ;  and  though  her  mamma  is  civil  to  me, 

17 


258  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   J. 

she  seems  to  me  to  be,  for  all  her  fine  house 
and  her  fine  gardens  and  hot-houses,  and  her 
fine  clothes,  and  her  great  riches,  to  be  a  very 
—  a  very  —  I  don't  know  exactly  how  to  say 
it,  but  I  know  what  I  mean.  Of  course,  she 
is  n't  common  and  vulgar  in  the  way  that 
people  in  the  streets,  or  in  the  poor  cottages, 
are  common  and  vulgar;  but  somehow  Mrs. 
Botterby  seems  to  be  a  very  vulgar  woman. 
Do  you  understand  me,  Aunt  Pen?" 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  quite.  You  find  her  vulgar- 
minded,  and  she  is  so ;  and  certainly'  her 
daughter,  though  kind-hearted  perhaps,  is 
full  of  sly,  unworthy  ways.  I  don't  think 
visiting  at  Botterby  House  will  either  be  very 
pleasant  to  you  or  very  good  for  you.  Still; 
we  must  n't  be  churlish  to  our  neighbors  when 
they  want  to  be  polite  to  us ;  and  if  Mrs.  Bot- 
terby calls  here,  we  will  be  as  civil  as  we  can 
to  her  while  she  pays  her  visit;  and  if  we 
meet  her  anywhere  else,  we  can  also  be  civil 
for  our  own  sakes  as  ladies.  But  we  can 
avoid  regular  yisjts  to  Botterby  House." 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND  I.  259 


CHAPTER  XVin. 

DAY  was  fixed  for  our  going  again 
to  Buckhurst  Park,  when  we  were 
to  walk  instead  of  drive,  in  order 
that  we  might  more  thoroughly 
enjoy  the  beauties  of  the  trees  and  glades; 
but  it  vexatiously  happened  that  poor  Aunty 
had  one  of  her  bad  headaches  that  morning, 
and  she  felt  unequal  to  go.  Uncle,  before  he 
went  away  to  town,  made  her  promise  that 
she  would  not  attempt  it,  and  she  readily 
promised,  saying  that  she  would  lie  down 
quietly  as  soon  as  he  was  gone ;  hoping  that 
silence  and  darkness  would  cure  her  by  the 
time  he  came  back  in  the  evening. 

"And  as  I  shall  be  glad  not  to  have  to  talk 
or  give  lessons  to-day,  I  think  the  chicks  may 
be  allowed  to  go  to  Buckhurst  Park  by  them- 


260  UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND    I. 

selves,  and  not  be  disappointed  of  their  day 
there,  after  all." 

"  A  very  good  thought,  my  Penn'orth  !  Just 
like  one  of  yours !  Off  with  you,  Bab  and 
Peep ;  and  mind  you  don't  get  into  any 
scrapes  by  the  way  !  " 

Though  we  were  sorry  not  to  have  Aunt 
Pen  with  us,  Peep  and  I  enjoyed  our  walk 
immensely.  First,  it  was  a  delicious  spring 
day,  mild  and  sunny ;  then  our  road  lay 
through  such  lovely  scenery  that  at  every 
step  there  was  something  to  admire.  On  en- 
tering the  ivy-covered  Park  gates  and  finding 
ourselves  in  the  noble  avenue,  we  felt  almost 
as  if  we  were  going  into  a  large,  long  church, 
with  rows  of  tall  columns,  and  a  soft  green 
light  up  among  its  arches  and  high  roof;  and 
we  walked  on  for  a  little  while  without  saying 
a  word.  Suddenly  Peep  called  out,  — 

"  Bab,  Bab,  see  there  !  What 's  that  little, 
bright,  brown  creature  scampering  across  the 
grass  ?  See,  it 's  making  for  those  four  big 
trees  over  there  !  " 

"  Oh,  it 's  a  squirrel !     Look   at  its  bushy 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  261 

tail,  and  its  smooth  up-and-down  body  as  it 
runs !  Oh,  it  has  reached  the  trees  and  is 
climbing  up  one  of  them,  oh,  so  quickly, 
darting  from  branch  to  branch !  And  now 
it 's  up  at  the  top ;  see  how  it  peeps  down  at 
us  as  if  laughing  at  our  not  being  able  to  fol- 
low it  up  there  !  " 

We  both  ran  towards  the  tree  to  see  if  we 
could  still  watch  the  squirrel,  who  had  popped 
his  head  behind  one  of  the  top  branches,  af- 
ter peeping  at  us  from  it ;  and  while  we  were 
walking  round  and  round  the  tree,  peering  up, 
Peep  had  not  noticed  a  tall  stag  that  came 
slowly  up  one  of  the  green  glades  and  then 
stood  stock-still,  gazing  at  us. 

"  Peep,"  I  whispered,  "  look  at  that  deer ! 
What  huge  branching  horns  he  has  !  How  he 
stares  at  us  !  Perhaps  he  's  angry  at  our  com- 
ing so  near  his  trees ;  do  you  think  he  is  ?  " 

"  No,  Bab,  of  course  not ;  he  's  only  look- 
ing at  us,  as  we  're  looking  at  him.  You  're 
trembling ;  are  you  afraid  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  he  looks  so  grave,  and  stares  at  us 
so  steadily." 


262  UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND    I. 

"  Well,  stand  still,  don't  attempt  to  rim. 
Keep  your  eyes  fixed  on  him.  I  recollect 
father  said  that  if  you  tried  to  run  from  an 
animal,  they  were  sure  to  run  after  you  and 
attack  you ;  but  that  if  you  looked  them  full 
in  the  face,  and  kept  your  eyes  fixed  upon 
theirs,  they  could  n't  stand  it,  and  would  very 
likely  turn  and  run  away." 

"  But  he  don't  look  as  if  he  meant  to  run 
away ;  he  never  stirs." 

"  Keep  tip  your  courage,  and  keep  looking 
at  him,  and  don't  move  !  " 

"  My  knees  are  shaking  so,  I  can  hardly 
stand  up." 

"  Try,  try,  Bab  !  Hold  still  as  long  as  ever 
you  can.  Don't  fall  if  you  can  possibly  help 
it.  Bulls  sometimes  trample  you  to  death,  if 
they  see  you  drop  on  the  ground.  Be  coura- 
geous, Bab ;  you  generally  are,  you  know. 
Remember  how  you  were  praised  for  presence 
of  mind  and  courage  when  we  helped  the 
children  out  of  the  pond.  I  can't  bear  to 
feel  you  tremble.  Don't  give  way  !  " 

Even  in  that  moment,  when  I  was  so  ter- 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  263 

ribly  afraid,  I  felt  proud  of  Peep's  boldness, 
and  was  glad  to  have  him  beside  me,  little 
fellow  as  he  was.  All  of  a  sudden  he  snatched 
off  his  cap  and  threw  it  smack  in  the  tall 
stag's  face,  who  gave  a  start  backwards,  turned 
round,  and  lightly  bounded  away  to  join  the 
herd  of  deer  that  were  at  a  little  distance.  I 
could  n't  help  bursting  into  a  ridiculous  gig- 
gle of  laughter,  though  tears  were  pouring 
down  my  cheeks  at  the  same  time,  as  I  sank 
down  on  the  grass  and  shivered  all  over. 

"  Nonsense,  Bab,  don't  -do  that !  You 
frighten  me,  now,  crying  and  laughing  at 
once.  Don't,  don't !  " 

But  I  could  n't  stop  myself,  and  poor  Peep 
looked  at  me  in  helpless  bewilderment.  Just 
then  there  came  in  sight  three  figures,  who, 
immediately  they  saw  us,  ran  eagerly  towards 
the  spot  where  we  were.  It  proved  to  be 
Mabel  and  Jamie,  with  another  boy,  older  than 
they. 

"  Why,  what 's  the  matter,  Bab  and  Peep  ? 
You  're  looking  as  scared  as  if  you  'd  seen  a 
wild  beast,  —  a  lion  or  a  tiger." 


264  UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND    I. 

"  We  've  seen  nearly  as  bad,"  said  Peep ; 
"  we  've  met  a  large  stag  who  looked  as  if  he 
were  going  to  drive  his  antlers  into  us  for 
daring  to  come  too  near  him ;  and  Bab  got 
timid,  and  I  got  frightened  seeing  her  shiver 
and  laugh  and  cry  in  this  strange  way.  Look, 
she  can  hardly  keep  from  it  now  !  " 

"  Stay,  give  me  your  hand ;  I  '11  help  you 
up  from  the  grass,  and  then  lean  upon  my 
arm  while  I  take  you  a  few  steps  from  here, 
where  there  's  a  little  mossy  fountain  with  a 
fresh  clear  spring  of  water,  and  some  of  that 
will  soon  set  you  to  rights.  Come !  " 

The  boy  —  who  spoke  with  a  bright,  cheery 
tone,  and  whose  face  was  the  most  pleasant 
and  beaming  I  had  ever  seen  —  I  guessed 
directly  must  be  Mabel's  and  Jamie's  elder 
brother  William,  now  come  home  from  school 
for  the  Easter  holidays. 

"  I  seem  to  know  you  both  quite  well 
already,  Bab  and  Peep,"  he  said ;  "  I  've  heard 
so  much  about  you  from  them  all  at  home  in 
their  letters  to  me.  By  the  bye,  what  an  odd 
name  you  have,  Peep  !  I  suppose  you  were  n't 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  265 

christened  so;  what's  your  real  name?  Not 
but  what  I  like  your  name  of  Peep,  it's  so 
quaint  and  queer  and  pleasant." 

"  My  real  name  's  Peter  ;  but  I  've  always 
been  called  Peep.  What 's  yours  ?  Oh,  yes, 
I  've  heard  them  speak  of  you  by  it ;  it 's 
William,  isn't  it?" 

"  Yes ;  but  here  's  the  fountain  ;  just  hold 
your  hand  in  a  hollow,  cup-like  shape,  dip  it 
down  into  the  water,  and  sip  it  gently." 

I  did  so,  and  soon  was  quite  better,  and 
able  to  chat  with  the  rest,  feeling  grateful  to 
William  for  his  nice  thoughtful  way  of  not 
noticing  me  too  much,  but  talking  on  cheerily 
to  draw  off  attention  from  me  while  I 
could  n't  keep  from  that  absurd  laughing  and 
crying  together.  He  had  a  delightful  man- 
ner with  him,  —  manly,  yet  not  seeming  as  if 
he  fancied  himself  older  or  more  clever  than 
we  younger  ones,  and  I  took  a  great  liking 
to  him  at  once.  So  did  Peep,  who  talked  as 
freely  and  easily  to  William  as  if  he  'd  been 
just  the  same  age  as  himself.  Leading  us 
to  a  tempting-looking  mossy  seat  beside  the 


266  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

fountain,  William  answered  many  questions 
that  Peep  asked  him  about  the  different  trees 
that  stood  near  the  spot,  telling  him  their 
names,  and  what  the  wood  of  each  was  gen- 
erally used  for.  At  last  Peep,  pointing  to  a 
grand  old  oak  that  had  beautiful  wide-spread- 
ing boughs  and  a  huge  rugged  trunk,  with 
wooden  steps  sticking  out  from  its  sides,  asked 
William  what  they  were  for. 

"  They  are  for  the  gamekeepers  and  wood- 
men to  climb  up  easily  into  the  tree  when 
they  want  to  be  hidden  among  the  boughs  to 
watch  the  deer  at  particular  seasons  of  the 
year.  It  is  called  a  Forester's  tree,  and  there 
are  several  of  them  about  the  Park.  Look, 
how  easy  and  convenient  they  are." 

And  William  jumped  up  from  his  seat,  ran 
to  the  tree,  set  his  foot  on  the  lowest  step, 
and  had  soon  mounted  them  all,  till  he  seated 
himself  astride  one  of  the  topmost  branches 
and  looked  down  at  us,  his  bright  eyes  and 
his  curly  brown  hair  making  me  think  of  the 
squirrel  we  had  lately  seen  in  just  such  a  po- 
sition. When  he  came  down  he  made  us  tell 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  267 

him  all  about  the  meeting  with  the  stag ;  and 
when  I  had  finished,  he  said,  — 

"  Well  done,  Peep  !  You  're  a  brave  boy  ! 
You  've  plenty  of  pluck,  as  the  fellows  say  at 
our  school ;  and  you  '11  be  a  credit  to  every- 
body that  knows  you,  when  you  're  a  man." 

"  That  he  will !  "  said  Mabel.  "  I  do  love 
bravery  in  a  boy.  Jamie  often  makes  me  feel 
proud  of  him,  he  's  so  courageous ;  and  Bab 
feels  the  same  of  you,  Peep,  I  know  she  does." 

"  Yes.  When  Peep  held  my  hand  so  tight 
and  told  me  to  keep  up,  and  then  flung  his 
cap  right  at  the  stag's  eyes,  I  was  almost  glad 
in  the  very  midst  of  my  fright." 

"  Peep  's  a  hero  !  "  said  William,  heartily ; 
"  and  we  '11  toast  him  after  dinner,  that  we 
will !  " 

"Toast  me?  Roast  me?"  asked  Peep, 
with  such  a  puzzled  look  that  we  all  burst  out 
laughing. 

"  No,  neither  roast  you  nor  baste  you ; 
neither  make  fun  of  you  nor  give  you  a  beat- 
ing. We  '11  only  drink  your  health  with  all 
the  honors.  Hip,  hip.  hurrah  !  Here  's  Peep 


268  UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND    I. 

the  brave,  Peep  the  hero  !  And  the  ladies  — 
my  mother  and  our  sisters  —  shall  pledge  us 
with  ringing  cheers." 

By  this  time  we  had  left  the  mossy  seat 
and  were  walking  on  towards  the  house,  —  the 
three  boys  a  little  in  advance,  rather  more 
quickly,  and  looking  at  a  dozen  things  that 
caught  their  attention  and  had  to  be  noticed 
along  the  avenue  path,  while  Mabel  and  I 
followed  quietly,  chatting  together. 

"  I  am  always  so  glad  when  William 's  at 
home,"  she  said.  "  He  's  such  a  capital  brisk 
fellow,  and  such  a  capital  companion ;  he  tells 
us  about  his  school  and  his  schoolfellows,  but 
he  does  n't  seem  so  wrapped  up  in  them  that 
he  can  talk  of  nothing  else,  as  some  boys  do ; 
he  lets  us  see  that  though  he  enjoys  the  fun 
and  frolic  and  bustle  of  school,  yet  that  he 
likes  his  dear  old  home  and  all  of  us  still  bet- 
ter, and  does  n't  think  himself  above  playing 
with  Jamie  and  me,  for  all  we  're  so  much 
younger  than  he  is." 

u  How  old  is  he  ?  How  much  younger  are 
you  two  ? " 


UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND    I.  269 

"  Oh,  he  's  past  twelve,  and  we  're  only  six 
and  eight.  One  of  the  things  that  makes  us 
so  glad  when  William  's  at  home  is,  we  can 
have  rounds  together." 

"  Rounds  ?  " 

u  Yes,  rounds ;  don't  you  know  what  rounds 
are  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  suppose  they  're  not  squares,  at 
least." 

Mabel  laughed  her  merry  little  sweet- 
toned  laugh,  and  then  said,  — 

"  Rounds  are  musical  pieces  for  three  or 
more  voices ;  and  my  mother  teaches  them  to 
William  and  Jamie  and  me  to  sing  together 
when  he  's  at  home.  While  he  's  away  she 
practises  them  with  us  two  younger  ones 
ready  for  William's  return  in  the  holidays." 

"  I  wish  I  could  hear  you  sing  them." 

"  You  shall,  if  you  like ;  we  generally  sing 
some  for  my  father  after  lunch,  and  my 
mother  beats  time." 

"  What 's  that  ?  What  does  '  beating  time ' 
mean  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you  '11  see  when  we  sing  our  rounds. 


270  UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I. 

She  moves  her  hand, — just  putting  it  down 
lightly  at  the  first  of  the  bar,  and  waving  it 
to  the  right  and  then  to  the  left  for  the 
other  beats  of  the  bar." 

I  looked  at  Mabel,  I  suppose,  with  such 
a  droll  look  of  not  understanding,  that  she 
again  gave  her  pretty  little  laugh ;  till  the 
boys  turned  round  and  asked  us  what  made 
us  girls  so  merry.  We  told  them,  and  we 
all  five  went  laughing  on  together  till  we 
reached  the  terrace.  Here  we  lingered  a  few 
minutes  more  to  look  at  the  sun-dial,  while 
William  explained  the  figures  and  lines  upon 
it,  and  showed  us  how  it  let  people  know 
exactly  the  time  of  day  so  long  as  the  sun 
was  shining ;  and  then  he  pointed  out  the 
pretty  motto  carved  round  the  dial, — "  I  note 
only  the  bright  hours." 

Sir  James  and  Lady  Buckhurst  made  us  very 
welcome ;  and  after  lunch  we  had  the  prom- 
ised rounds,  —  the  three  children  singing 
several,  among  which  I  thought,  "  When  the 
rosy  morn  appearing,"  "  Wind,  gentle  ever- 
green," "  How  great  is  the  pleasure,"  and 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  271 

"  Hark,  the  merry  Christ  Church  bells,"  were 
the  prettiest.  Lady  Buckhurst  kindly  told  us 
that  singing  rounds  was  not  very  difficult; 
and  asking  if  Peep  and  I  had  any  voice,  said 
she  would  show  us  how  to  take  part  in  them. 
We  said  we  had  a  little,  and  could  sing  one  or 
two  little  tunes  and  songs. 

"  Well,  songs  are  very  pretty,  and  I  hope 
you'll  sing  us  yours,  we  shall  like  to  hear 
them ;  but  rounds  are  still  more  amusing 
when  three  or  four  singers  are  in  company." 

She  then  showed  us  how  rounds  are  sung, 
and  taught  Peep  and  me,  at  once,  two  very 
easy  rounds,  "  White  sand  and  gray  sand  " 
and  "  Turn  again,  Whittington,"  which  we 
both  much  enjoyed  singing  with  William,  Ma- 
bel, and  Jamie,  —  I  joining  Mabel  and  Peep 
joining  Jamie,  while  William's  stronger  voice 
did  very  well  alone  in  his  part. 


272  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

HEN  the  rounds  were  finished,  we 
children  all  went  out  into  the  gar- 
den, where  there  was  a  swing  be- 
tween two  tall  trees. 
"William  carpentered  it  all  himself,  and 
put  it  up,  with  the  help  of  the  gardener,"  said 
Mabel.  "  My  father  has  given  William  one 
of  the  outhouses  as  his  workshop,  and  he  car- 
penters there  many  a  useful  and  pretty  thing 
for  us  all.  He  made  my  mother  a  work- 
table,  and  my  father  a  set  of  library  shelves, 
and  Jamie  a  wheelbarrow,  and  me  a  doll's 
bedstead." 

"  Oh,  have  you  got  a  wheelbarrow  ?"  said 
Peep.  "  Uncle  gave  me  one,  —  one  that  I 
believe  was  first  made  for  you,  Jamie ;  but 
the  man  said  you  'd  changed  your  mind  for  a 
four-wheeled  cart;  which  was  very  comfort- 


UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND   I.  273 

able  for  me,  as  I  wanted  a  wheelbarrow  be- 
yond everything,  and  immediately." 

"  Yes,  and  very  comfortable  for  me ;  for 
"William  said  he  thought  he  could  manage  to 
make  me  the  wheelbarrow,  and  so  I  got  both." 

We  were  very  happy  laughing  and  talking, 
while  William  swung  us  high,  high,  high. 
At  first  I  was  a  little  bit  afraid  to  find  myself 
flying  up  among  the  tree-tops;  but  when  I 
saw  how  unfrightened  Peep  and  Jamie  and 
even  Mabel  were,  I  got  to  like  it  excessively. 
They  two  only  swung  a  little,  letting  Peep 
and  me  have  the  most  of  the  swinging,  as  it 
was  quite  new  to  us ;  and  as  for  William,  he 
never  got  into  the  swing  at  all  himself,  but 
only  swung  us.  Such  an  unselfish  boy  we 
found  him  from  the  first;  and  so  polite  and 
kind  to  their  visitors  they  all  were ! 

After  we  had  had  as  much  swinging  as  we 
liked,  they  took  us  to  a  part  of  the  grounds 
where  there  was  a  target  set  up.  William 
fetched  bows  and  arrows,  and  we  had  a  try 
to  shoot  at  the  mark.  Jamie  was  a  capital 
.aimer,  and  hit  the  target  right  in  the  midst 

18 


274  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

several  times ;  so  did  Mabel,  for  they  both 
said  they  had  been  practising  hard  every  day 
lately,  to  be  able  to  surprise  William  when  he 
came  home  from  school.  Peep  succeeded  so 
well  in  one  or  two  aims  he  took,  that  William 
shouted  out,  "  Bravo !  bravo !  Peep  the 
hero ! " 

At  dinner  Peep's  health  was  drunk,  as  Wil- 
liam had  said  it  should  be;  and  both  Sir  James 
and  Lady  Buckhurst  were  interested  with  the 
story  of  our  meeting  the  stag,  which  William 
made  me  repeat  to  them. 

We  took  dessert  in  the  drawing-room,  where 
the  groups  of  fruit  looked  like  paintings, 
spread  on  a  table  underneath  those  fine  old 
pictures,  and  where  the  windows  looked  out 
upon  the  green  lawns  and  noble  trees  of  the 
Park.  While  we  ate  some  delicious  red- 
cheeked  apples  and  bronzy-colored  pears, 
and  cracked  some  filberts,  her  mother  told 
Mabel  to  let  us  hear  a  Gay's  Fable  or  two ; 
and  she  repeated  "  The  Turkey  and  the 
Ant"  and  «  The  Fox  at  the  Point  of  Death  " 
so  playfully  and  well,  that  we  very  much- 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  275 

enjoyed  the  ant's  snubbing  the  greedy  old 
bird,  and  the  pretended  repentance  of  sly 
Reynard. 

In  the  evening,  with  the  crimson  and  gold 
of  the  setting  sun  shining  through  the  avenue 
trees,  Peep  and  I  had  a  delightful  walk  back, 
—  Sir  James  and  his  wife  and  children  accom- 
panying us  as  far  as  the  ivy-covered  gates, 
and  bidding  us  good-by  there  with  many 
kind  messages  to  Uncle  and  Aunty,  and  hopes 
that  we  should  find  her  headache  quite  passed 
away.  This  was  the  case ;  and  they  were  both 
ready  to  listen  to  our  account  of  our  day's 
pleasure. 

It  did  us  lasting  good,  too ;  for  we  began 
learning  round-singing  and  fable  -  repeating 
with  Aunt  Pen,  which  made  us  pass  many  a 
happy  hour  of  an  evening  when  Uncle  came 
home.  Sometimes  we  had  rounds,  sometimes 
songs,  sometimes  fables  or  short  verse-pieces, 
and  sometimes  Aunty  would  "tell  us  a  story" 
again.  Time  passed  very  fast,  and  we  found 
ourselves  near  the  midsummer  holidays,  when 
Tom  was  coming  home. 


276  UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND   I. 

We  made  a  feast  to  receive  him;  Aunty 
and  I  ordering  the  dishes  I  knew  he  best 
liked  for  dinner,  and  decking  the  table  with 
garlands  and  bunches  of  flowers,  of  which 
there  were  by  this  time  plenty.  Our  garden, 
which  had  always  been  famous  for  being  full 
of  roses,  supplied  heaps  and  heaps  of  them, 
—  white,  blush,  pale  yellow,  delicate  pink, 
rich  damask  red,  and  clusters  of  noisettes  and 
banksias.  Ned  Carter  had  done  his  very 
best,  and  had  proved  himself  a  capital  gar- 
dener, contriving  to  have  the  bushes  and 
standards  and  climbers  in  full  bloom  just  the 
very  week  " Master  Tom"  was  expected. 

When  he  came,  however,  he  did  n't  much 
notice  the  flowers ;  and  even  when  I  drew  his 
attention  to  them,  and  told  him  how  I  had 
helped  Aunt  Pen  to  arrange  them,  he  said,  — 

"  What  do  I  care  about  flowers  ?  Flowers 
are  well  enough  for  women  and  girls  to  fuss 
over,  but  boys  don't  think  much  of  them. 
What  a  row  you  make  about  'em,  Bab,  you 
see !  Yet  what  are  they  ?  Only  a  lot  of 
roses,  that  are  as  common  as  cabbages.  You 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  277 

should  have  seen  the  cape-jessamines  and 
heliotropes  and  orchids. at  Wentworth  Hall; 
they  were  something  like,  now  !  " 

"Like  what?"  I  said. 

"  Oh,  well,  like  —  like  —  anything.  Like 
choice  flowers.  You  know  what  I  mean, 
Bab." 

"  But  why  should  n't  you  like  roses  because 
they  're  common,  —  common  as  cabbages,  as 
you  say  ?  Cabbages  are  very  good  things,  I 
think,  and  so  are  cabbage-roses,"  said  Aunt 
Pen,  laughing. 

Tom  did  n't  even  look  towards  her,  and 
gave  her  no  answer. 

"  Cabbages  are  one  of  my  favorite  vegeta- 
bles," I  said ;  "  and  cabbage-roses  —  roses  of  all 
sorts  and  kinds  —  are  my  favorite  flowers." 

"Ah,  that's  because  you  're  a  little  stay-at- 
home  chit,  Bab,  who  have  scarcely  seen  any 
other  flowers  than  roses,"  said  Tom. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  I  've  seen  camellias  at  Botterby 
House ;  and  both  Peep  and  I  like  our  own 
roses  a  great  deal  better." 

"  t  Birds  of  a  feather  flock   together,'  and 


278  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

you  and  he  are  a  conple  of  young  geese,  fool- 
ish goslings.  Oh,  there 's  father  at  last,"  said 
Tom,  interrupting  himself  to  look  out  of  the 
window,  where  he  saw  Uncle  coming  up  the 
garden  path  to  the  house. 

I  noticed  that  Tom's  manner  was  changed 
while  his  father  was  present.  When  Uncle 
was  at  home,  Tom  was  civilish  and  quietish, 
though  rather  sulky  and  silent ;  but  when 
Uncle  was  out  of  the  house,  Tom  was  bluff 
and  rude  to  Peep  and  me,  and  very  insolent 
to  Aunt  Pen,  —  that  is,  he  was  insolent  with- 
out saying  a  single  word  to  her.  He  never 
looked  at  her,  never  seemed  to  hear  her 
when  she  spoke,  never  addressed  her  or 
answered  her,  never  appeared  to  know  that 
she  was  in  the  room  or  even  in  the  house. 

One  morning,  as  soon  as  Uncle  was  off  to 
town,  Tom  went  up  to  his  own  room  and 
came  down  again  with  something  in  his  hand, 
which,  after  looking  at  for  a  moment,  I  could 
n't  make  out. 

"  What 's  that,  Tom  ?  "  I  asked. 

"A  pistol.     I  'm  going  to  practise  my  pistol- 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  279 

shooting.  I  don't  want  to  get  out  of  practice. 
I  got  to  be  a  capital  shot  among  the  fellows  at 
school,  and  I  shall  lose  my  sure  aim  if  I  don't 
keep  it  up." 

"  A  pistol  is  a  dangerous  toy,"  said  Aunt 
Pen,  quietly. 

As  usual,  he  took  no  notice  of  her  having 
spoken,  and  went  on :  "  It 's  capital  fun,  when 
you  get  to  be  a  good  shot.  You  can  come 
out  and  watch  me,  if  you  ain't  afraid,  Peep?" 

"I'm  not  afraid,  Tom." 

"  Stand  well  at  a  distance,  Peep,"  said  Aunt 
Peri;  adding,  in  her  gentle  but  firm  voice, 
"  pistols  are  dangerous  toys." 

But  again  Tom  looked  as  if  he  had  n't 
heard  her  speak,  and  only  said,  — 

"  Come,  Peep,  if  you  care  to  come." 

I  felt  fidgety  about  Peep's  going  out  to 
look  on  at  the  shooting,  and  I  followed  him 
into  the  garden  as  he  eagerly  ran  after  Tom. 
What  with  my  feeling  afraid  about  Peep,  and 
what  with  the  startling  bang  of  the  jioise  the 
pistol  made  whenever  Tom  let  it  off,  I  could 
hardly  help  screaming  every  time  he  did  so ; 


280  UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND   I. 

but  I  managed  to  keep  my  scream  pretty 
well  in,  though  not  quite. 

"  Girls  are  wretched  cowards,"  said  Tom. 
"  What  a  piece  of  work  they  always  make 
about  guns  and  pistols,  even  if  they  're  not 
loaded !  And  as  to  keeping  from  squeaking 
when  fire-arms  are  let  off,  they  can't  for  the 
life  of  them  do  it." 

"  I  try  not  to  scream ;  I  try  not  to  start, 
indeed,  Tom ;  but  I  really  cannot  quite  help 
doing-  both." 

"I  say  so,  —  girls  are  a  parcel  of  cowards, 
and  we  can't  expect  any  better  of  them." 

"  Boys  are  cowards  too,  sometimes,  and  in 
some  things,"  said  Peep. 

"  Boys  ?  What  nonsense  !  Boys  are  always 
brave ;  that  is,  if  they  've  anything  in  them 
at  all.  Why,  I  remember  you  yourself,  Peep, 
when  you  were  quite  a  little  chap,  and  though 
it  was  against  myself,  you  took  my  fancy  by 
your  plucky  way  of  smashing  my  face  with  a 
shell  when  you  thought  I  was  vexing  Bab." 

"  I  'm  not  thinking  of  being  cowardly  in 
things  like  that.  Every  boy  would  be  brave 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  281 

when  he  saw  his  sister  being  teased  and 
couldn't  help  herself.  But  what  I  am  think- 
ing about  is  being  a  coward  in  other  things, 
—  being  afraid  to  behave  as  rudely  to  a  per- 
son when  somebody  they  're  obliged  to  behave 
well  before  is  in  the  room  as  they  do  when 
he  's  not." 

"Is  that  meant  for  sauce,  Master  Peep?" 

"  It 's  meant  for  truth,"  was  the  answer. 
"  It 's  true,  and  you  know  it,  Tom,  —  that  you 
behave  very  differently  to  Aunt  Pen  while 
Uncle  's  away  and  when  he 's  at  home ;  and  I 
call  that  cowardly,  —  very  mean." 

"Mean?" 

"  Yes,  mean,  very  mean ;  and  not  what  any 
brave  boy.  any  brave  man,  any  true  gentle- 
man would  do.  He  'd  scorn  to  be  so  mean, 
so  cowardly." 

"  Upon  my  word,  Master  Peep,  you  're 
turned  parson,  you  preach  so  grandly.  And 
to  me,  too,  —  your  elder  and  your  better." 

"Elder,  but  not  better,"  I  said.     "Peep's, 
good  and  true  and  brave  to  the  backbone." 

"  A  pretty  joke,  truly,  —  that  I  'm  come 


282  UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND    I. 

home  from  school  to  be  schooled  and  taken 
to  task  by  two  brats  like  you,  and  for  a 
trumpery  stitcher-for-her-bread  like  Pen  Prim ! 
A  fine  joke,  upon  my  word  ! " 

At  that  moment  off  went  Tom's  pistol, 
which  he  was  holding  carelessly  in  his  pettish 
anger,  and  Peep,  having  in  his  eagerness  of 
talk  stepped  a  little  forward  from  where  he 
stood  at  first,  received  the  charge  in  his  cap, 
which  fortunately  he  had  put  on  when  he  wrent 
out.  Tom  was  horribly  frightened,  and  ran  to 
Peep  with,  "  Hullo,  old  fellow !  I  hope  I  have 
n't  hit  you." 

"  No,  no ;  only  my  cap  !  "  said  Peep,  good- 
humoredly. 

"All  right;  but,  by  Jove,  I  thought  the 
ball  had  gone  through  your  head,  my  lad !  " 

"  Pistols  are  dangerous  toys,"  I  said. 

"  Hold  your  nonsense,  Miss  Bab !  Boys,  if 
they  want  to  be  manly,  should  know  how  to 
use  fire-arms." 

"  Boys,  if  they  want  to  be  manly,  should 
practise  pistol-firing  when  they  're  not  likely 
to  shoot  people  through  the  head ;  and  it  is  n't 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  283 

manly  to  insist  on  not  hearing  reason,  or  on 
being  rude  to  those  who  talk  reason,  or  on  be- 
ing mean  and  cowardly.  That  is  n't  manly .'' 

"  Bab,  don't  press  him  too  hard,"  said  Peep, 
as  we  turned  to  leave  the  garden. 

"  Girls  always  do  press  a  fellow  when 
they  've  the  right  end  of  the  stick,"  said 
Tom ;  "  but  as  they  are  girls,  and  can't  fight, 
we  let  'em  have  their  say." 

Nothing  more  was  said.  No  mention  was 
made  of  Peep's  cap  having  had  a  bullet 
through  it,  for  he  was  much  too  generous  a 
little  fellow  either  to  tell  tales  or  to  bear 
malice  for  what  was  really  an  accident,  though 
it  might  have  been  so  serious  for  himself. 
Neither  did  Tom  ever  practise  shooting  again, 
nor  did  we  ever  even  see  his  pistol  any  more. 
But  he  did  not  much  mend  his  manners.  It 
is  true,  he  was  no  longer  so  actually  insolent 
to  Aunt  Pen,  but  he  grew  more  than  ever 
sulky  and  silent  and  unsociable.  At  last, 
when  Uncle  noticed  this  one  day,  Tom  said  he 
felt  bored. 

"  Bored,  Tom,  at  home  ?     With  us  ?  " 


284  UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND    I. 

"  Yes,  with  you  all ;  I  liked  being  at  home 
for  the  holidays  well  enough  when  I  had  you 
to  myself,  father ;  but  now  there  's  such  a  lot 
of  strangers  in  the  house,  I  don't  know  it  for 
the  same." 

"  Strangers  !     Your  cousins  and  my  wife  !  " 

"  Yes,  strangers ;  they  're  strange  to  me, 
and  always  will  be.  I  don't  feel  at  home  with 
them;  home  isn't  home  now  to  me,  and  I 
don't  care  to  come  home." 

"  Not  care  to  come  home,  Tom  !  Not  care 
to  be  with  me  !  " 

"  Well,  as  I  can't  have  you  without  them, 
I  don't  care  much  even  to  be  with  you. 
You  've  got  them  and  you  don't  want  me. 
I  'm  getting  tired,  too,  of  school,  and  I  want  to 
go  to  sea.  I  should  like  it ;  I  wish  it ;  and  I 
hope  you  '11  let  me  go,  father." 

"  I  thought  you  liked  your  school  and  your 
schoolfellows  so  much,  Torn." 

"  Ah,  yes,  I  did ;  but  I  don't  care  even  for 
school  and  the  fellows  there  much  now,  since 
I  've  set  my  heart  on  going  to  sea.  At  sea,  I 
shall  be  my  own  master,  at  least." 


UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND   I.  285 

"  Your  own  master  at  sea?  Ah,  Tom,  you 
little  know  what  going  to  sea  is,  if  you  say 
that." 

uLet  me  try,  father;  let  me  try  for  my- 
self; you  went  to  sea,  you  know,  when  you 
were  a  lad,  and  I  want  to  go.  Don't  say  no, 
father.  Let  me  go  to  sea." 

"  Well,  my  boy,  you  shall,  if  your  heart  is 
set  upon  it.  At  any  rate,  you  shall  try  what 
the  life  is  for  a  year,  and  then  decide  for 
yourself.  If,  after  a  long  voyage,  and  going 
through  all  the  hardships  and  discipline  of  a 
sailor's  life,  you  still  wish  to  make  it  your  pro- 
fession, you  shall  have  your  way;  I  won't 
thwart  you." 

"  Thank  you,  father  !  " 


286  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

[HERE  .was  to  be  a  large  garden- 
party  for  young  people  at  Buck- 
hurst  Park,  and.  we  were  all  invited 
to  go.  Sue,  who  knew  all  the 
gossip  and  talk  of  the  village  told  us  that 
everybody  was  striving  to  get  invitations,  and 
that  all  the  families  round  about  were  on 
thorns  till  the  cards  came  which  showed  they 
were  included.  Uncle  wished  Aunty  to  order 
new  dresses  for  herself  and  for  me,  in  order 
to  do  proper  honor  to  the  occasion ;  but  she 
said  she  meant  to  wear  her  delicate  gray  silk 
dress,  that  he  had  given  her  for  one  of  her 
wedding  dresses,  and  which  she  had  scarcely 
worn  more  than  a  few  times ;  while  for  me 
she  intended  to  make  a  simple  white  muslin 
frock,  which  she  thought  the  prettiest  dress  a 
little  girl  could  have  for  a  dancing-frock,  and 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  287 

she  had  heard  there  was  to  be  a  ball  after  the 
entertainments  in  the  garden. 

"  The  Buckhursts  themselves  have  set  the 
excellent  example  of  showing  how  little  ex- 
travagance has  to  do  with  true  taste,  Uncle," 
she  said ;  "  and  we  cannot  do  better  than 
follow  so  good  an  example.  Besides,  the 
gray  silk  and  the  white  muslin  are  really  the 
very  most  suitable  things  we  could  choose  for 
this  garden-party  and  dance.  You  '11  see  how 
well  Bab  and  I  will  look,  and  what  credit  we 
shall  do  you.  But  I  think  you  will  have 
to  order  a  dress-suit  for  the  boys,  as  their 
every-day  clothes  are  a  little  rough-looking 
for  such  an  occasion  as  this." 

"  Well,  my  Penn'orth,  when  you  go  out 
to-day  you  can  tell  Fitwell  the  tailor  to  step 
up  here  to-morrow  morning  and  take  Tom's 
and  Peep's  measure.  Meantime,  I'm  off  to 
town!" 

Aunty  let  me  help  her  in  making  up  my 
muslin  frock,  by  running  the  seams  while  she 
cut  out  the  bodice  and  set  it  together.  She 
put  rows  and  rows  of  tucks  round  the  skirt, 


288  UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND    I. 

as  she  said  they  were  quite  the  prettiest  and 
simplest  trimming  for  a  little  girl's  dress ;  and 
certainly  it  looked  the  freshest,  daintiest  frock 
possible,  when  it  was  finished. 

Finding  Tom  and  Peep  in  the  garden  that 
afternoon,  I  told  them  about  Fitwell  being 
ordered  to  come  up  next  morning  and  take 
their  measure. 

"  Not  mine,"  said  Tom  ;  "  I  shall  wear  what 
I  wore  at  Wentworth  Hall.  Thank  her  for 
nothing !  As  if  I  'd  let  Pen  Prim  meddle 
with  my  clothes  !  Thank  ye,  not  I !  " 

"  And  yet  it  was  she  who  got  you  to  have 
that  very  dress-suit  you  had  at  Wentworth 
Hall,"  said  Peep.  "  She  asked  Uncle  to  let 
you  have  an  extra  allowance  when  you  wrote 
to  him  for  more  money  for  things  you  would 
want  at  Wentworth  Hall." 

"  She  asked  him  !  Just  like  her  meddling 
ways !  I  wish  she  'd  let  me  alone  !  " 

"  Oh,  Tom,  how  can  you  be  so  ungracious, 
so  ungrateful  ?  "  I  said. 

"  I  don't  want  to  be  grateful  to  her.  She  's 
a  meddling  cat ! " 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  289 

"  She  always  meddles  —  as  you  call  it  — 
for  kindness  and  for  good  !  " 

"I  don't  want  her  kindness,  or  her  good. 
I  only  wish  her  to  leave  me  alone.  I  suppose 
she  's  going  too,  to  this  garden-party  ?  " 

"  Of  course." 

"  Well,  one  comfort  of  such  parties  is, 
they  're  so  large,  so  full  of  company,  and  in 
such  a  great  space,  that  one  can  keep  clear  of 
people  one  does  n't  want  to  mix  with." 

When  the  day  of  the  garden-party  came, 
the  carriage  was  sent  for  us  from  Buckhurst 
Park,  and  we  had  the  pleasure  of  introducing 
Uncle  to  all  the  beauties  of  the  place  as  we 
drove  along  ;  for  he  did  n't  go  up  to  town 
for  once,  that  he  might  enjoy  this  special 
holiday  with  us.  Peep  gave  up  his  place  on 
the  coach-box  to  Tom,  who  said  he  liked  to 
watch  the  horses. 

Little  Mabel  came  flying  out  to  meet  us  as 
we  stepped  from  the  carriage.  She  looked 
quite  a  little  fairy  in  her  white  frock,  with 
blue  ribbons  on  her  shoulders  like  wings,  and 
her  hands  full  of  flowers  that  she  brought  for 

19 


290  UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND   I. 

Aunty  and  me  to  wear  in  the  front  of  our 
dresses.  She  had  one  herself  among  her 
bright  curls,  and  she  insisted  on  sticking  one 
into  my  hair,  —  a  rosebud  exactly  like  the 
one  she  wore.  She  also  put  a  little  bunch 
of  lilies-of-the-valley  into  my  bodice  and  one 
into  her  own ;  as  she  said  she  wished  us  to  be 
as  alike  as  possible.  Tom  was  very  much 
struck  with  her  prettiness,  and  whispered  to 
me,  as  soon  as  she  had  flown  off  to  welcome 
other  guests,  how  extremely  he  admired  her. 

The  garden-party  was  charming;  the  grass 
looked  as  if  it  were  covered  with  blossoms  as 
the  ladies  and  children  in  their  bright-colored 
dresses  walked  and  ran  about  and  played  at 
various  games,  or  stood  still  to  listen  to  some 
beautiful  part  singing  that  was  going  on  at 
one  end  of  the  lawn ;  while  later  on,  at  the 
other  end,  a  band  struck  up,  and  the  dancers 
began  to  think  of  choosing  their  partners. 

"  Bab,"  said  Tom,  "  I  should  like  you  to  in- 
troduce me  to  your  pretty  little  friend  Mabel, 
as  I  want  very  much  to  dance  with  her;  but 
I  suppose  I  ought  to  ask  you  first,  as  you  're 


UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I.  291 

my  oldest  acquaintance   here.      Should    you 
mind  if  I  took  her  out  before  you  ?  " 

"  I  ?  Oh,  not  at  all !  I  should  be  glad  ; 
for  I  'm  engaged  to  William  for  the  first 
dance." 

«  William  ?     Who  's  he  ?  " 

"  William  Buckhurst, —  that  tall  boy  over 
there,  with  the  curly  brown  hair.  Have  n't 
you  been  introduced  to  him  yet  ?  " 

"  I  've  been  introduced  to  nobody.  You've 
all  been  too  busy  with  each  other  —  you  who 
are  already  such  great  friends  —  to  mind 
about  me.  You  never  noticed  or  cared 
whether  I  was  introduced  or  not." 

"  No,  Tom,  it  was  n't  that,  indeed  ;  it  was 
because  I  never  could  get  a  sight  of  you,  you 
kept  so  out  of  the  way.  Where  were  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  was  over  there  among  that  clump 
of  hawthorn-trees.  I  amused  myself  looking 
-on,  and  watching  the  others.  I  did  n't  care 
to  be  among  a  parcel  of  strangers,  that  I 
did  n't  know  one  from  another." 

"  If  you  kept  apart,  out  of  the  way,  how 
could  I  introduce  you,  Tom  ?  " 


292  UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND    I. 

"  Well,  introduce  me  now.  Introduce  me  to 
your  pretty  little  mite  of  a  Mabel.  It 's  a  pity 
she  's  so  very  small,  so  very  young ;  but  still 
I  should  like  her  for  a  partner,  for  all  that." 

We  made  our  way  through  the  crowd  of 
eager,  bright,  gay  girls  and  boys,  all  bent 
upon  their  own  particular  partners  either 
already  secured  or  being  sought  for,  and  at 
last  found  ourselves  near  to  Mabel  Buckhurst, 
who,  with  her  cheeks  rosy  from  running 
about,  and  her  eyes  sparkling  with  delight  at 
the  idea  of  dancing,  certainly  looked  prettier 
than  ever. 

"  Mabel,  dear  (for  she  had  long  since  told 
me  to  call  her  "  Mabel,"  as  she  called  rne 
"Bab"),  I've  brought  you  my  cousin  Torn 
BrufF,  who  wishes  to  be  presented  to  you, 
that  he  may  ask  you  to  dance  the  first  dance 
with  him." 

"  I  can't ;  I  've  already  promised  your 
brother  Peep  to  dance  it  with  him." 

Tom  bit  his  lip  and  looked  furious. 

"With  him,  — with  that  little  chap? 
Why,  he 's  hardly  more  than  a  baby !  " 


UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND    I.      .  293 

"I'm  hardly  more  than  a  baby  myself," 
said  she  ;  "  and  if  Peep  's  little,  I  'm  littler. 
We  shall  make  a  capital  couple,  —  an  exact 
pair." 

She  dropped  Tom  a  saucy  little  courtesy, 
and  flew  off  to  give  her  hand  to  Peep.  I 
think  I  had  never  seen  Tom  look  so  black  be- 
fore, though  I  had  often  seen  his  face  very 
dark  and  scowling.  It  looked  black  and 
blank  too,  as  he  stood  frowning  and  staring 
on  the  ground. 

"  Stay  ;  I  see  some  one  over  there  I  know, 
Tom,  and  I  '11  introduce  you  to  her  if  you 
like." 

"  Ay,  do  !  But  who  is  she  ?  Which  is 
she  ?  " 

"  It 's  that  young  lady  in  the  pink  silk, 
over  there  talking  to  William.  She 's  the 
rich  Miss  Botterby ;  she  said  she  should  be 
an  heiress  some  day,  and  she  's  very  good- 
natured  and  generous  with  her  money,  —  that 
is,  with  her  father's  money  ;  for  he  refuses 
her  nothing,  she  told  me  so,  and  her  mother 
is  very  indulgent  to  her  too.  They  make  a 


294  UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I. 

great  deal  of  her,  and  she  's  thought  very 
much  of  in  her  neighborhood." 

"  She 's  rather  good-looking,"  said  Tom. 
"  Yes,  Bab,  you  may  introduce  me  to  her." 

We  crossed  to  the  spot  where  Miss  Botterby 
stood  smiling  at  William  and  talking  very 
fast  to  him.  She  turned  to  me  as  soon  as  she 
saw  me,  with  many  assurances  that  she  was 
so  glad  to  meet  me  again. 

"  I  've  a  crow  to  pick  with  you,  though, 
now  I  come  to  think  of  it.  How  is  it  you  've 
never  been  to  Botterby  House  again,  you 
naughty  little  creature  you  ?  But  never 
mind,  I  won't  begin  by  scolding  you.  I  'm  so 
pleased  to  see  you  again,  any  way,  that  I  '11 
forgive  you  without  more  to-do." 

I  introduced  Tom  to  her.  He  made  his 
bow  and  asked  her  hand  for  the  first  dance. 

"  Oh,  you  're  very  good,  I  'm  sure ;  but  I 
rather  think,  — I  believe  —  I  —  " 

She  simpered,  looked  down  at  her  fan,  and 
then  gave  a  side  glance  at  William,  who 
waited  quietly  and  silently  till  she  finished 
her  speech. 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  295 

"  I  half  thought  I  was  already  engaged ; 
but  I  remember  now,  I  'm  not.  I  shall  be 
very  happy  to  give  you  the  first  dance." 

She  courtesied  to  Tom,  who  led  her  off  to 
join  the  dancers,  now  beginning  to  form  for 
the  first  set,  which  was  to  be  a  country- 
dance. 

"  We  shall  be  the  top  couple,  I  suppose," 
I  heard  her  say,  as  they  moved  away. 

"  I  fancy  not,"  was  the  answer ;  "  Miss  Ma- 
bel Buckhurst,  who  is  the  young  lady  of  the 
house,  may  perhaps  lead  off." 

"  Hardly,  I  should  think,"  said  Miss  Bot- 
terby,  tossing  her  head ;  "  that  would  be 
strange  etiquette  indeed.  The  daughter  of 
the  house  is  the  last  person  who  should  take 
the  lead.  Get  me  a  place  as  near  the  top  as 
you  can,  please." 

To  my  great  surprise  I  found  that  /,  of  all 
little  people  in  the  world,  had  to  lead  off; 
for  it  was  settled  that  William  (as  son  of  the 
house)  and  his  partner  should  be  top  couple. 
I  felt  a  little  —  a  very  little  —  afraid,  on  find- 
ing myself  obliged  to  begin  the  dance,  and 


296  UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND    I. 

hoped  I  might  not  be  too  shy  or  too  awkward 
to  do  William  credit,  who  was  a  very  grace- 
ful dancer ;  but  Aunty  had  taught  Peep  and 
me  so  well  our  first  steps  and  positions,  and 
had  so  often  made  Uncle  and  us  two  stand  up 
with  her  for  a  dancing-lesson  of  an  evening, 
that  we  both  acquitted  ourselves  very  fairly ; 
and  she  told  us  so  when  we  reached  home 
after  our  pleasant  day  of  the  garden-party 
and  dance  at  Buckhurst  Park. 

It  was  long  a  subject  of  talk  and  bright 
recollection  afterwards ;  but  next  morning 
when  Tom,  Peep,  and  I  were  in  the  garden 
together  Tom  said  suddenly,  — 

"  Bab,  promise  me  that  while  I  'm  away 
you  won't  dance  any  more  with  William 
Buckhurst.  There 's  something  about  that 
fellow  I  detest ;  and  I  don't  like  to  think  of 
your  dancing  with  him." 

«  Why  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  exactly  know ;  but  I  find  him 
an  insufferable  puppy,  and  I  don't  care  to 
have  you  his  partner  any  more." 

"  But  suppose  I  care ;  suppose  I  like  him, — 


UNCLE,    PEEP,   AND   I.  297 

which  I  do  very  much.  He 's  manly  and 
gentlemanly  and  gentle,  and  I  like  him ;  he 's 
a  very  good  dancer  too,  and  it's  pleasant  to 
have  him  for  a  partner." 

"But  if  I  don't  like  him?" 

"  I  can't  help  that ;  I  'm  sorry  you  don't, 
and  I  think  it 's  a  pity  —  for  yourself,  Tom. 
But  I  can't  help  it  if  you  don't  like  him  ;  and 
I  don't  see  why  your  not  liking  him  should 
prevent  my  liking  him." 

"  Yes,  it  ought ;  I  'm  your  cousin ;  you  've 
known  me  much  before  you  knew  him,  and 
my  likings  and  dislikings  ought  to  have  some 
weight  with  you,  Bab." 

"  I  don't  see  at  all  why  they  should,  espe- 
cially when  they  're  unreasonable.  You  say 
you  don't  know  why  you  dislike  William,  you 
can't  give  a  reason  for  your  not  liking  him; 
therefore  I  can't  see  why  I  should  give  up  my 
liking  to  please  a  whim  of  yours." 

"  If  you  cared  for  me,  —  if  you  cared  for 
my  opinion,  —  you  would  do  as  I  ask  you." 

"  Not  if  you  ask  me  to  do  what  is  unreas- 
onable." 


298  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

"  Reasonable  or  unreasonable,  you  ought  to 
oblige  me  if  you  can." 

"  But  I  can't  oblige  you  in  this ;  do  not 
ask  it,  Tom." 

"  Then  you  won't  give  up  dancing  with  this 
fellow  ?  It 's  a  small  thing  to  ask  ;  will  you 
grant  it  me,  Bab?" 

«  No,  Tom !  " 

He  ground  his  teeth  hard,  looked  at  me 
fiercely,  and  then  said,  — 

"  I  could  wring  your  neck  at  this  moment, 
Bab  !  " 

There  was  a  pause,  a  silence,  and  then  he 
continued,  — 

"I  suppose  you  won't  even  shake  hands 
with  me  when  I  go  to  sea  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  will !  Why  not  ?  I  '11  even  now 
shake  hands  with  you, —  at  once,  Tom." 

I  held  out  my  hand  to  him  ;  he  took  it  in 
his,  and  gripped  it  rather  roughly,  then  let  it 
drop. 

"  And  will  you  say  good-by  to  me  when  I 
go?" 

"Of  course,  Tom." 


UNCLE,    PEEP,    AND   I.  299 

"  Say  it  now,  Bab." 

"  Good-by,  Tom." 

He  snatched  my  hand  again,  looking  hard 
at  me,  then  flung  it  from  him,  turned  on  his 
heel,  and  tried  to  whistle  as  he  went  away. 

"  I  can't  bear  Tom,  I  never  could  ! "  ex- 
claimed Peep.  "  Wring  your  neck,  •  indeed  ! 
I  like  that !  " 

"  No,  you  don't,  Peep." 

"  I  mean,  catch  me  standing  by  and  letting 
him  do  it !  " 

"  I  think  he  tries  to  be  kind,  Peep ;  but 
somehow  he  seems  as  if  he  could  n't  be." 

"  It 's  no  use,  Bab;  I  can't  bear  him,  and  I 
never  could !  " 

Next  morning  when  we  all  came  down  to 
breakfast  there  was  no  Tom.  Before  it  was 
light  he  had  left  home  for  London  to  join  his 
ship,  on  board  of  which  Uncle  had  procured 
him  a  berth  as  cabin-boy,  which  was  his  own 
wish.  It  seems  he  had  taken  leave  of  his 
father  overnight,  and  said  he  did  n't  want 
good-byes  with  any  one  else.  Uncle  looked 
rather  disturbed  and  thoughtful  that  day,  and 


300  UNCLE,   PEEP,   AND   I. 

for  some  days  after;  but  Aunt  Pen  did  all 
she  could  to  cheer  him,  and  Peep  and  I  did 
our  best  to  amuse  him,-  and  prevent  him  from 
feeling  sad. 

At  the  end  of  a  fortnight  came  a  letter 
from  Tom  to  his  father,  written  in  the  highest 
spirits,  saying  his  ship  was  on  the  point  of 
sailing,  that  he  liked  his  captain  and  his  ship- 
mates, and  was  now  "as  jolly  and  free  as 
could  be." 

Our  little  home  party  fell  into  its  old  pleas- 
ant ways,  and  as  we  sat  at  breakfast  one 
bright  summer  morning  looking  at  Aunt  Pen, 
who  had  just  said  something  in  her  gentle 
way  that  made  us  all  break  into  a  hearty 
laugh,  I  thought,  "  I  really  do  believe  there 
are  not  happier  people  in  the  whole  wide 
world  than 

AUNTY,  UNCLE,  PEEP,  AND  I!" 


University  Press  :  John  Wilson  &  Son,  Cambridge. 


SUSAN  COOLIDGE'S  POPULAR  BOOKS. 


THE  CLIFFS. 

A   LITTLE    COUNTRY    GIRL. 

With    Illustrations. 

One  volume.     Square  i6mo.    Cloth,  black  and  gold.    Price  81.50. 

ROBERTS   BROTHERS,  PUBLISHERS,  Boston. 


JOLLY    GOOD    TIMES; 


OR, 

CHILD   LIFE    ON   A   FARM. 

BY  P.   THORNE.      PRICE  $1.25. 

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MRS.  EWING'S   GIRL-BOOK, 


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EWING.     Price  $1.00. 

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CASTLE    BLAIR: 

A    STORY  OF   YOUTHFUL   DAYS. 

BY   FLORA   L.  SHAW. 
i6mo.    Cloth.    Price  $1.00. 

"  There  is  quite  a  lovely  little  book  just  come  out  about  children,  -  • 
'  Castle  Blair  1 '  .  .  .  The  book  is  good,  and  lovely,  and  true,  having  the 
best  description  of  a  noble  child  in  it  ( Winnie)  that  I  ever  read ;  and  nearly 
the  best  description  of  the  next  best  thing, — a  noble  dog,"  says  John 
Raskin,  the  distinguished  art  critic. 

"  'Castle  Blair,'  a  story  of  youthful  days,  by  Flora  L.  Shaw,  is  an  Irish 
story.  A  charming  young  girl  —  half  French,  half  English  —  comes  from 
France,  at  the  age  of  eighteen,  to  live  with  her  bachelor  uncle  at  Castle 
Blair,  which  is  in  possession  of  five  children  of  an  absent  brother  of  this 
uncle.  The  children  are  in  a  somewhat  wild  and  undisciplined  condition, 
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winning  to  an  extraordinary  degree.  They  are  natural  children,  in  mannei 
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in  that  it  is  pervaded  by  an  air  of  refinement  and  good-breeding.  The  story  is 
altogether  delightful,  quite  worthy,  from  an  American  point  of  view,  of  all 
Mr.  Ruskin  says  of  it;  and  if  circulation  were  determined  by  merit,  it 
would  speedily  outstrip  a  good  many  now  popular  children's  books  which 
have  a  vein  of  commonness,  if  not  of  vulgarity."  —  Hartford  Courant. 

"  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  nothing  more  interesting  or  more  whole- 
some is  offered  this  year  for  older  boys  and  girls.  It  is  a  charming  story, 
in  which  the  author  has  delineated  character  as  carefully,  and  with  as  keen 
an  artistic  sense,  as  if  she  had  been  writing  a  novel.  Her  book  is  a  novel, 
indeed,  with  children  and  the  lives  of  children,  instead  of  men  and  women 
and  their  lives,  for  its  theme."  — New  York  Evening  Post. 

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and  I  * 


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